Page 90 of A False Start
He smiles back, but it’s forced. “She’s apparently finally going to sign the papers, my lawyer told me last night. Then the divorce would just need to process.”
“Did you pay her off?”
“No. I decided I didn’t care if she wanted to run her mouth about it anymore.”
I nod in approval. “Good. I’m thrilled for you.”
He laughs, but it’s angry. “You have no business being this mature about my mess, Nadia.”
“In my head, I’m not being very mature. In my head, I really hate that bitch. It’s more like,Good riddance, you money grubbing whore. Come around, and I’ll kick you in the box.”
He stares back at me, shaking his head, lips pulling up a fraction. “You’re vicious, Wildflower.”
“Is there really a video? Did you sleep with her?” I blurt it out before I can even stop myself. I guess my maturity knows some bounds after all. Obviously, he slept with the woman.
Griffin grimaces, looking physically uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I’ve never spoken directly to her, and I don’t remember that night at all.”
A pained sound escapes me as I lean back, untangling my hands from his. The air is cold against my skin, and what I really want to do is crawl across the table and curl up in his arms. My mind is telling me to sit back and take some space though.
“What will you do if she releases it?”
His eyes slam shut, and he sucks in a raspy breath. “Pray you never see it.”
Heaviness lodges in my throat, and my stomach drops. I feel like I might be sick, so I promptly change the subject, not wanting to think about seeing him with someone else, or having the world see him so exposed.
“Did you ever go to rehab?”
His hands lay limp on the table before him, and he looks completely flayed open. I fucking hate it. I hate seeing him hurt. Because I recognize it so perfectly. The pain, the anger, the sadness—it was me a few years ago. Before I worked on myself.
“No.”
“Therapy?”
“No.” He winces, like he knows those aren’t suitable answers.
I pick up my coffee cup and sip it, but I don’t taste it. I turn this all over in my head. His story. His sadness. His growth.
Leave it to me to want someone normal and happy, but to end up head-over-heels for one of the most complicated men in the world.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He groans. “Old habits die hard. And I’ve buried this secret for a very long time. I’m so embarrassed. I wanted to be a normal, happy person for you, and I thought I could just...” He drops his head into his hands before speaking straight into his palms. “I don’t know. Get this all dealt with and then tell you and I’d be the fresh slate you deserve. It sounds really dumb now that I say it out loud.”
I chuckle. It does sound dumb. Well-meaning, but dumb. Dumb and impossible. “We’re not normal, happy people, Griffin. Remember?”
He leans back with a heavy, ragged sigh, letting his arms go limp at his sides in defeat. “Yeah. I know.”
Does he?
“I need to go for a walk.” A panicked expression crosses his face as I push the chair away to stand. “I’m not leaving. I’m not quitting. I just need some processing time.”
Griffin nods, schooling his face back into that unaffected look as his lips thin and press together. He’s totally freaking out. And as I walk out that front door, emotions warring inside of me, I realize we’re both faking.
Because I’m freaking out too. School. Family. Life goals. I see them all slipping away right before my eyes.
I’m in love with Griffin Sinclaire, but I refuse to give up everything I’ve wanted in life just to hear him say he loves me back.
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