Jack growls, “You wanted to fucking talk, then go fucking talk.”
My ex finally moves his feet and meets me outside.
“What is it?” I demand. While the sidewalk is still public, there aren’t many people out here at seven because everyone smart is either eating, working or spending time with someone they enjoy. Plus, I’m hoping this will be quick.
“I want to know how long you cheated on me.” Brad’s round face is taking on an alarming hue of red, making him look a little like a mad tomato.
“Not even once.”
“I don’t believe you,” he sniffs derisively. “You were never fully invested in any kind of relationship. You half-heartedly went on dates with me. You avoided anything but the briefest physical contact. I’m not sure why you even said yes to me.”
Listening to him berate me for not falling madly in love with him makes me wonder the same thing. However, I don’t share this with him as I know it would only enrage him more. Because a a tiny part of me feels guilt, I let him rant.
I wasn’t super into Brad when he asked me out, but I thought I ought to give him a chance. I’m thirty and I haven’t had a serious boyfriend since law school. I thought…well, I thought that since I couldn’t have the man I really wanted, then I should look around for someone I could be happy with. Brad’s a good lawyer. He’s attractive enough that I thought I wouldn’t mind seeing him naked. By the second date, I knew both of those assumptions were wrong. Brad’s paralegal was awesome and made him look good in court. He’s attractive but nothing about him got me excited. The more time I spent with him, the less appeal he held until the idea of seeing him naked made my stomach roil. Even the thought of him kissing me made me slightly ill. When he broke it off, I was relieved.
“Are you listening to me?”
I jerk to attention. “Yes. You are unhappy with the emotional investment that I put into the relationship and that I was the cause of its ultimate failure.”
Brad gives a half-satisfied nod at my recitation. “Well?” he prompts.
“Well, what?” A motion near the door catches my eye. Jack is hovering in the entryway. I raise a hand as if to scratch my head, but instead point my thumb in the direction of our table. He responds with a firm shake of his head.
“Well, aren’t you going to apologize?”
“For what?” I’m only half paying attention to Brad at this point since I have to keep one eye on Jack. The last thing he needs is to get into a fight with an assistant district attorney. Brad would throw that in his face every time Jack got on the stand to testify.
“For causing our relationship to fail.”
“Oh, for crying out loud.” What an irritating pissant. “Yes, it was my fault.” Because I should’ve said no when he asked me out. “I’m sorry.” Because I’m happier today now that we are officially broken up than at any time when we were dating. “Feel free to blame me.” Because I don’t care if you and your frat boy cronies in the defense bar believe that I’m an uptight bitch too immersed in my career to be a decent lay.
“Well—good—” Brad fumbles for a response, clearly taken aback by my complete embrace of responsibility. He didn’t expect it, likely because he knows deep down what a crock of shit his demands are. That lifts my spirits.
Feeling magnanimous, I reach out and clap him around the shoulder as I’ve seen him do a thousand times to his “bros.” “Good talk, Brad. Keep your chin up. You’ll find the right woman soon.”
I turn on my heel and walk in the opposite direction, leaving a slack-jawed, somewhat confused Brad behind me. I said what he wanted me to, but he doesn’t feel like he won and he’s the type of person that needs to feel like he has the upper hand. I feel sorry for whatever girl he ends up with.
“Why didn’t you let me punch him?” Jack’s voice asks from over my shoulder.
“Because even if you’re off duty, you’re still a cop and he’s still an ADA lawyer. He could use that against you.”
Jack shrugs his broad shoulders. “I can take care of myself.”
“Same.”
“You gotta let me do a few things now and then or I’m going to feel useless.” He gives me a pointed look. I return it. We engage in a staring contest for what seems like ten minutes but is probably only thirty seconds. My eyes begin to itch.
I blink and sigh. “Fine. You can be my date for the wedding.”
A blinding grin breaks out across Jack’s face, making his already attractive face a thousand times more gorgeous. I have to avert my gaze so I don’t fall on my knees and beg him to take me back to his house and give me all the orgasms.