I mean, he was right.
"Was this whole thing a way of getting back at me?" he asked before I could think of a response. "Not that I blame you," he quickly added. "I fucking deserve it. All of it. But there's one thing you need to know."
Was he going to tell me how sorry he was again? I had to find my voice. And quickly.
"Wait," I said. "There's one thingyouneed to know actually."
"What's that?"
Every part of his body tensed up, like he was bracing himself for my response, and he leaned forward even more.
Staring him dead in the eye, I inhaled deeply, then said the words that had been on the tip of my tongue ever since I'd dug out the ID in his wallet. "I will never forgive you."
He flinched, like he'd received a physical blow.
"What you did," I spit out, "was totally and completely unforgivable."
Yes, I'd finally gotten over the shock, anger bubbling up inside me, righteous, glorious anger, all those never-forgotten feelings of an overweight teenage girl rising up inside me with the force of a soul-shattering tsunami.
His eyes closed as he leaned back, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath, his lips clamping together, the intense emotion of the moment written all over his face.
Everything was unmasked now, all of our secrets laid out before us, our souls naked to each other, raw, exposed, real.
When he opened his eyes again, the pain I saw there took my breath away. Why washein so much pain? I was the one who'd been hurt here. It made no sense and frankly ticked me off.
"You can apologize until you're blue in the face," I said, barely recognizing my own voice or the steel in it, "but it means nothing to me."
His lips still compressed, he nodded slowly, soaking in the venom of my words. "I get that," he finally said. "I really do."
Why did everything out of his mouth sound like it was leading to abut?There was no possiblebutin this situation.
"But?" I asked.
The barest hint of a smile lifted the corners of his lips. "You're so damn smart to sense that's what I wanted to say."
Nice try with the flattery, buddy. But I was currently immune to any charm coming from this man.
"Because," he continued, his face turning deadly serious again, "there is a but. Kind of. Whatever you want to call it, there's something I desperately need to tell you."
What on earth was he talking about?
My phone chose that inopportune time to ring, and I glanced down to see it was Katie calling. I didn't hesitate to pick up, wondering if there was a fire I had to put out somewhere, even though all fires should have been put out at this point.
"Katie?" I answered. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes!" Her voice was breathless. "More than okay!"
Tristan's eyes were intent on my face, the room so quiet, I was sure he could hear Katie's voice. I almost gave him a glance, awhat the heck is happeningglance, but then I remembered I was in the middle of telling him how much I despised him. So I didn't.
"What do you mean?" I asked her.
"I mean," she squealed, "you're going viral. Your collection is blowing up all over social media! The not sorry tag is trending everywhere!"
"What?" I gasped, not quite believing my ears.
"And as if that wasn't enough," she gushed, "you are not going to believe who I just heard from."
"Who?Who?"
