"I don't know, okay, I can't think; it hurts to think about it."
"Yeah? Well, it fucking hurt to look at it; you wanna know which one hurt most? Not the one in the car where it looks like he's going down on you; no, the one that gets me in the guts every fucking time is the one of you glancing back over your shoulder at him with your hands holding his while he's nuzzling your fucking neck." I was shouting by the time the last word left my mouth, and of course, she was in tears again.
Now she had her hands over her ears as if to stop the words while she rocked back and forth, knees drawn up to her chest, head down as if waiting for a blow.
Too fucking bad, if she wanted me, wanted us, then she was gonna have to answer the tough questions. I was already willing to put my heart on the line, leaving myself wide open for her to fuck me over again. If she couldn't do this with me, then we were done. Fuck that.
"I swear on my fucking life, Suzette..."
"No, no, I'll answer; just give me a minute, please." She unfolded herself, still rocking back and forth, only now she had her arms crossed over her chest.
"I really don't know what I was thinking; it's not a cop-out. I was confused, okay..."
"Why were you in the car with him?"
"I don't...he met me at the gym. No, we didn't plan to meet. I don't remember what he said he was doing there, something about his car, but either way, it was a chance meeting."
I just bet it was slick motherfucker.
"Anyway, we started driving. I was going to drop him off at his mechanic or something like that."
She furrowed her brow.
"Then he started talking about the movie and how well it had done, about my career and where it was going. Then somehow it turned to you and Justine, and I don't know, next thing I know, he was kissing me." She was trying to catch her breath at this point, but I didn't try to calm her. I needed her to finish; I needed to hear it all.
"I didn't want that. I swear it took me by surprise, but then I don't know, everything just got away from me, but he wasn't doing...what you said before. He wanted to, but I couldn't. Then I left the car and walked away, trying to get my bearings. I don't understand how the paparazzi knew where to find me. I never saw them at the gym. They must've followed me somehow, but I don't see how."
I didn't bother filling her in, yet she needed to finish her story first.
"Then I guess in the picture you're talking about; I went to that window to try to clear my head. I was already feeling the guilt, but I was nervous too, you know. I didn't know how to handle his advances."
How about kicking the motherfucking douche in the nuts? That would've worked. I would've much rather looked at pictures of that than of him rubbing his dick against your ass, an image that was now part of Hollywood's infamy. I didn't say that out loud because I knew she would just freak the fuck out again, but I wanted to. Let it go, Maddox, you promised, don't let your hothead get in the way of this. Just take a fucking breath.
"In the picture, it looks like you're laughing. It doesn't look like you're nervous or unsure of anything; it just looked like two people having a good time on the side of the street."
"Gage, please, I promise you I don't remember all that happened that day, but I promise you I was not there to cheat on you. Maybe for one moment, the thought of you with that Justine person made me have a lapse in judgment, but I promise you I never once wanted him. I could never want him. I love you. I'll always love only you; please, you've got to believe me."
And therein lies the heart of the matter. Could I believe her? Should I believe her? I'd already decided to give us a chance, so what real choice do I have? Fuck me over a barrel. This shit is whacked.