“Damn right, I spied on you,” he states, like that’s a normal thing to do.
“That’s… I don’t even know what to say,” I manage, completely at a loss. “That’s not only an invasion of my privacy, it’s insulting. All you had to do was ask me what he said, and I would have told you.”
“Well, you can tell me what you were thinking when you stood there awkwardly, like you owed him some kind of explanation for fucking me. Do you two have a history?”
Shaking my head in more than mild disbelief, I say, “What? No, we don’t have a history. I was thinking that he’s a good waiter. I was thinking that given his level of efficiency, we should train him to work the floor, too, because he’s good at up-selling, and he would make you more fucking money. That’s what I was thinking. I was thinking about you, like always.”
“Right,” he says, his tone heavily skeptical. “Of course you were.”
Summoning all the patience I have in my heart right now, I remind myself that Cassandra did a number on him, that she damaged his ability to trust, and that it’s not his fault. There has been no one since her. He has not learned to trust again. The closest thing to a relationship he
has had since was Laurel, and she didn’t love him, she loved Sin. I don’t blame her for it, Rafe’s bad behavior is what pushed her away from him in the first place, but judging from the abruptness of them being over and her living with Sin, I assume there was some sneaking around. Some behavior that further damaged his already dented trust in women.
“Rafe, I have no reason to lie to you about other guys. You know that. Logically, you know that. I’m not Cassandra. I’m nothing like her. I think she was a terrible person, and I would never in a million years do what she did. I would never hurt you. I would rather take the pain on myself than ever give it to you. I’ve spent four years watching you fuck everyone but me, for God’s sake. You have to know I have your best interest at heart. That hasn’t changed just because you put your dick inside me.”
I expect—hope—for my logical words to ease his irrational concerns, but instead of anything like relief, instead of accepting that I’m someone he can trust, someone he can finally have a healthy relationship with, he shoves a hand through his hair and looks down at the ground. “I think this was a mistake.”
My whole system freezes. The cogs in my mind jolt to a stop, my poor heart—I don’t know how I’m ever going to make all this up to that poor organ. It feels like my legs are sandbags, and I can’t move a muscle in my useless body.
“I know it was my mistake,” he adds. “You tried to…”
He trails off, and I feel like queen of the fucking idiots. My chest is tight and I struggle to draw a breath. I had boundaries for Rafe, and this is why. For four long years, I knew that the only way I could keep him was to stay out of his bed, and for four years, that worked.
This is my fault. I knew better. I knew that sleeping with him would be a mistake, I just… I couldn’t resist him that night. He told me he needed me, and I believed him.
Tears burn behind my eyes, and I’ll die if they fall.
Nodding my head, I agree with him so I can get the hell out of here. “Yeah, I think it was, too. It’s fine. This is—I knew better. I’m just going to go home, and I’ll see you at the restaurant.”
“I don’t want things to be…” He sighs, like he already knows finishing the sentence is pointless.
“It doesn’t have to be weird,” I tell him, hearing the woodenness in my own voice. “I mean, the first time it probably will be, but… We’ll snap back. Things will be fine.”
Cocking a skeptical eyebrow, he finally meets my gaze. “You think so?”
I don’t know how easy it will be, but I’ll find a way.
“I’m not going to be one more thing that stresses you out, Rafe. I never want to be that for you, not for any reason,” I explain. “I’m an adult. I made a decision that I knew was risky, that went against my better judgment, and it didn’t work out—my, how shocking,” I add, trying for lightness. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”
“I’m so sorry, Virginia.”
I manage a faint smile. “I know.”
There’s nothing more to say, no last minute save coming to rescue me from heartache, so I have to convince my body to move again. All I need it to do is get me to my car. Since we didn’t want to appear to be coming together, we drove separately. Rafe stopped to grab wine so we wouldn’t arrive at the same time.
Tears blur my vision, but Rafe doesn’t follow me to my car, so it doesn’t matter. I pull down my visor and brush the tears away, annoyed by their presence. My brain tells me I don’t get to cry right now. This is exactly what I knew would happen, and now—oh, God.
His smile shreds painful new claw marks into my heart when my spiteful brain replays the memory of him lying in bed, caressing my jaw with tenderness for me shining in his brown eyes.
Alcohol never works, but maybe it’s worth a try. Tomorrow I’ll feel better, but tonight I’m going to cry. Tonight I will mourn the loss of my fantasy, I will curse the inevitability of midnight.
Rafe’s bullshit spying almost urges me to go home, but I’m off tonight. It won’t even cross his mind to look at the footage from the restaurant. He will assume that I went home.
So instead, I head to the restaurant.
Felix owes me some shots.
19