Page 82 of The Front Runner
Never mentioned it.
The utter shock of it all lances through me. Hot and painful and nauseating. I need to leave. I need to compose myself before I say or do something I’ll regret.
Hank’s head quirks, his matching emerald eyes so full of questions. “You alright, son? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Son.The word fills my mind and blankets my vision. After all this time, he’s been sitting right under my nose. And the woman I thought I might be falling in love with fuckingknew.
I’ve experienced betrayal in my life, more than most people have. But this is different. Only people who had already let me down in some way have ever betrayed me.
Mira bowled me over by being perfect for me, and I didn’t even have the sense to see it coming.
“I’m fine.” My voice is brittle. “Enjoy your dinner.” I spin on a heel and march toward the heavy front door of the dingy pub.
I need fresh air. I need distance. I need time to process. I can’t do that with Mira’s doe eyes pleading with me.
And I sure as fuck can’t do that while I stare into eyes that are a perfect mirror image of my own.
Pushing into the cool night air, I keep my strides even and controlled until I get to my SUV. I round the front of it toward the grass ditch and heave. It’s been hours since I’ve eaten, so nothing comes. Just silent nausea and the choked sounds that accompany it.
When the episode passes, I’m still bent over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath—trying to cool my head.
“Stefan?”
Her voice is quiet, pained. Uncertain.
“I don’t want to talk right now.” And I don’t. At this current juncture, I have nothing to say to Dr. Mira Thorne.
Her steps don’t falter as she approaches. “Let me explain.” Her voice cracks.
I turn on her, eyes blazing. Heart throbbing. “Explain what, Mira? How, after everything I’ve divulged to you, you can’t so much as mention this to me?”
“I—”
I cut her off, words coming out hard as I stand up tall. “I trusted you. I told you things I’ve never toldanyone.”
“I had a plan. I was going to tell you.”
“How long?”
She blanches, her face going deathly white under the light of the moon, almost blue beneath the dark sky.
“How long did you know?”
“Listen.” She holds her hands up in a gesture that tells me she wants me to slow down. But I can’t do that right now. My head is spinning. I’ve spent years languishing over this secret, and she’s had the power to put me out of my misery for… how long?
“Did you know before we got involved?”
“Define involved.”
That’s my answer. Rage churns in my gut, and I quirk an eyebrow at her, scoffing as I do.
“Everything between us has happened so fast. Just let me explain before you cut me off again.”
“So now this is my fault? No, Mira. This was a simple conversation you could have had with me. It doesn’t matter now.”
Her face stays stoic while silent tears trickle down her cheeks. “What does that mean?”
“It means… I… fuck!” I shout as I run both my hands through my hair. This is not how this was supposed to go between us. “I’m not sure I can be with someone this dishonest. In fact, I’m almost positive I can’t.”
