After three hours of painful silence while hitting balls around with a bunch of other rich fuckers, we walk back to the clubhouse and load up the clubs into the trunk. I know time is running out. If I want to ask him when it’s just us, I’ll need to do so now.
Knowing that, I mentally prepare myself for what’s to come. I lock down my emotions, sliding a mask onto my face. No matter what he says, at least I’m getting the truth, right? Wrong is wrong, but I don’t focus on that. My stomach knots with dread as we both get into the car. The engine roars to life and fills the empty space inside the car with a dull hum.
Sucking in a deep breath, I blow it out and ask, “Did you and Laura have an affair five years ago?”
“What?”
The shock in his voice surprises me, probably because I was expecting him to say yes.
“Did you?” No way am I repeating that question again, and especially not when I know he heard me the first time.
He gives me a befuddled expression, his brows pinching together. “Why would you ask me something like that?”
No, yes or no answer, just another question on top of all the others.
“Did you?” I repeat more urgently. I need him to say it. Yes or no. My knee starts to bounce up and down, nervous anxiety vibrating off of me.
“Of course not, Vance. What the hell? I loved your mother very much when we were married and never would have done such a horrendous thing.”
My knee stops mid-bounce, and my gaze drops to the floor. No?
“No?” I croak. There’s a terrible feeling inside my chest. It feels like my heart’s being ripped in two, a spasm of pain shooting through me, almost like a bullet has lodged itself deep inside. My lungs burn, needing air, but I can’t even perform the simplest of functions.
“No, of course not, son. Why would you even ask me a question like that?”
He said no.
He said no.
Which means…
“Vance, did something happen? Talk to me, son.” My father’s voice draws me back.
“A…Ava…” I stutter. A hundred things running through my head all at once. Ava’s smile, her laughter, her sweet floral scent, her soft curves, her pink lips.
Everything…everything is a lie. Why can’t I see her for what she is? Why did I let what she said to me affect me in such a way? I should’ve expected this, expected her manipulation. She lied then, and she’s continuing to lie. A cheetah never changes its spots. The pain inside gives way to anger, and it floods my veins, fueling me with red-hot rage like I’ve never felt before.
She manipulated me.
Lied to me…again.
She made me think it was all real. Her tears, her pain.
“What happened? Did something happen when we were gone?” Concern overtakes his confused expression. “I tried to tell Laura it was a bad idea to let her come and live with us. I’m sorry if she upset you.”
Clenching and unclenching my fists to gain some type of composure, I say, “Why? Why was it a bad idea for her to come and live with us?” I could name ten reasons off the top of my head right this second, but I want to know why he thinks it was a bad idea.
Maybe I can get him to ship her off somewhere, obviously not until I get done with her, but nonetheless, I’ll get rid of her even if I have to send her back to her piece of shit father, crying.
“Her mother told me she’s got a serious problem with lying. I guess it’s something she’s developed over the years, or should I say gotten better at. She’s a master manipulator, Vance. She can’t be trusted, not at all.”
Ain’t that the fucking truth. I should’ve seen this coming, but I was caught up in the glamour of who she was, thinking maybe beneath it all she was an actual fucking human, the friend I had cared for so much. But if there is anything this teaches me, it’s that if someone does something once, and gets away with it, they’ll do it again, and I guess that’s what Ava was doing. Trying to gain some hold over me.
“She lied, right to my fucking face. I swear I thought she was telling the truth. She looked so genuine. She was even crying… real tears, real fucking tears,” I whisper, talking more to myself than my father.
He shakes his head in disappointment. “It makes sense, she’s been making up things since she was an early teen, fabricating stories so well it was hard not to believe them. Remember when she told her father you threatened her? That you wanted her to steal some jewelry so you could sell it? Seems she’s only gotten worse over time. Don’t feel bad for believing her, son. She’s been practicing this lying gig for so long, its second nature to her. I’ll have Laura talk to her, let her know that if she does something again, she’s out. I wouldn’t subject you to that again. My son isn’t a liar, and you’ve never done anything to anyone.”