AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why does it matter? You had your sex life. I had mine. That’s over now.”
I touch my watch, roll my ring, narrow my eyes. “Is it, though?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you remember cheating on me.”
“I was a fucking virgin last night, prick!”
“Apparently, you don’t need penetration to cheat, as per your earlier admission.”
Her face falls as she comes to the same realization. “I…I wouldn’t do that. I despise cheating.”
“Not enough to refrain.”
“Don’t do this to me, Eli. I already feel guilty. Maybe it was a hallucination. I’m sure you know I have those…uh…sometimes, I mean…it’s not that I’m crazy or anything, but like…you’re my guardian, so you have an idea that I’m…”
She trails off, not wanting to disclose too much. If only she knew the things I carry because of her.
Things she’ll never,everfind out about.
“Who was the man?” I ask, my voice closed off. Maybe it was the previous therapist. He was the only one who could have had that sort of access to her.
While I hit Vance, and I’m arranging to have him leave UK soil, he’s not a viable option. He only recently came back.
However, I’m well aware he wants to rekindle their teenage fling, which is why he’ll be removed from her vicinity effective immediately. For criminal charges—allowing the dealing of drugs in the bars and restaurants managed by his family. They’re fake charges, but the threat of it is enough to force his father’s hand.
My name is enough to make a non-existent offense a tragic reality.
“I don’t remember his face.” Her eyes brighten with an unnatural shine as she holds on to the desk with both hands.
“Then what did you see in the memory?”
“Just that he was, um, half-naked and I wrapped my arms around his neck and said my husband wouldn’t like this.”
She watches me closely, her face pale as if she’s a prisoner waiting for a sentence.
I resist a smile.
It was me.
But I can’t tell her that or she’ll be thrown for a loop if she realizes she can’t recall most of her life when trapped in her episodes.
For some reason, however, I also don’t want her to keep believing she cheated either, especially since she loathes that.
“It could’ve been nothing and a mere conjuring of your imagination,” I say in my usual detached tone.
“Right? I knew it must’ve been. I’m not the cheating type.” Her face lights up like a Christmas tree.
But then she hesitates, opens her mouth, then closes it again.
“What now?” I ask.
“If it is true…will you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive, because it isn’t true.”
“But if it is…?”
