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“What kind of person do you think I am?” He shakes his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’m beyond pissed at you for lying to me, but I’m not a saint, either.” He takes in a giant breath, and when he speaks again, there’s a measure of calm in his tone. “Come in. Let’s talk about this.”
I still don’t move, eyes blurred again as I realize he’s offering me the same grace I gave him the night of the engagement party. A hand comes up to cover my mouth. I choke down an incoming sob. I’ve spent so much time hiding my true feelings, the awful person I really am, but he’s not turning me away. Is this how he felt when I discovered him about to confess everything to Alice? Like his whole life was unraveling at the seams?
He doesn’t move from the door to comfort me, and part of me is grateful. I don’t deserve his kindness. But another part of me desperately wants his arms wrapped around me like a cocoon of warmth I never have to leave.
“Marcela.”
I walk past him through the door before he can finish, dropping my bags as I rush to find his bathroom. The first door I walk through is a hall closet, but I don’t even care. I slide down the wall until my butt hits the floor and finally allow the sobs to rip through me.
Twenty-Two
Theo doesn’t interrupt until the emotion has passed through my system, leaving me drained and exhausted. I spend a few silent minutes in the darkness before the door cracks open. He’s standing over me in the sliver of golden light, taking in my puffy eyes and smeared mascara. I’m not ready to leave the closet, but I can’t stay in here forever. With a resigned sigh, I force myself to stand.
“Don’t hug me.” His brows crease in question. “Don’t try to comfort me in any way. I don’t deserve it, and it’ll just make me feel worse for everything I did. I lied to you, and it got between whatever tense relationship you and Ben already have. I’ll answer any questions you have, and then if you never want to see me again, I’ll understand.”
His mouth sets in a frown. He shakes his head before completely ignoring everything I just said. He pulls me into his chest, holding me even tighter than his usual hugs. The tears threaten to come up all over again, but I’m crushed too far into his chest for them to fall. I hold on to him as tightly as I can, sudden and instant relief flooding through me in a way I can’t begin to describe. We’re not two people casually hooking up in this moment. We’re two people who understand each other.
“Don’t cry, Marce.” He wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. “You think I don’t get how you feel?”
Of course I don’t think that. He’s the only person who could possibly understand what I’m feeling right now. I wonder if he’s berated himself as much as I have over the years. If he hated himself for attempting to break up his brother’s relationship the same way I hate myself for keeping this big a secret from him.
I’m worse between the two of us, too concerned over what other people think of me to tell the truth for once in my life.
“I’m awful.” My voice comes out choked. I try to look away from him, wipe away the fresh onset of tears, but a hand on my chin locks me in place.
“You’re not awful.” His fingers brush my hair away from my tear-stained face. “We’re in the same boat. And it’s gonna sink no matter who knows.”
As odd an analogy as that is, it does just the trick. I let out a surprised laugh, and the side of his mouth quirks slightly in a sad smile. “Boy, do you have a point there,” I say, wiping my nose of snot with the end of my sweater.
“Come over here.” He takes my hand and leads me to his couch. “Do you want anything? Water, coffee…”
“Got anything harder?” I ask mostly as a joke, but when he shakes his head I can’t help but be a little disappointed. “Shame. Guess I’ll take coffee instead.”
He starts a pot, and when he returns there’s a hesitant look in his eyes. “Listen. I can’t be mad at you for not trusting me, but can I ask why you didn’t? I mean, I’m probably the last person you know who could possibly judge you for it.”
“Trust had nothing to do with it,” I say. “I didn’t want you to think differently of me. I was thinking of myself more than I was thinking of you. It was stupid and selfish, and I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you,” he says, and that easy absolution does so much to relieve my conscience. Is it really that easy? “But I wouldn’t say trust doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I promised to be honest with you because I trust you.” His eyes are steady on me. “Not because I expected the same from you, but because you held me accountable to do what was right without ever judging me for wanting the opposite.”
And now I’ve broken his trust by lying to him. I shouldn’t be sad to lose something I never knew I had in the first place, but it’s another reminder of how I’ve disappointed him. If I really only saw him as a rebound, I wouldn’t care, would I?
“I want you to trust me, Marcela.” My heart slams in my chest, the sound filling my eardrums as I look at him. “Can you do that?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, and it’s not just because of Angela’s warning from last week, or Ben’s reiteration. He’s just using you to get back at me. I’m not sure who to believe anymore, but that’s not what matters right now. That’s not what’s making my heart race unsteadily right now.
“That’s fair”—he blows out a hard breath—“no matter how much I hate hearing it. We knew what this was when it started. It doesn’t leave much room for trust to be built.”
The trouble is, there were so many times when I let my guard slip with him. When I let myself pretend what we were doing meant something. So many times I almost let myself trust him with everything, until reality pulled me back. Ten days of silence. Warnings from friends that never cease.
And I surely don’t try to convince Alice she’s making the biggest mistake of her life by marrying you.
I have no claim on him—no reason for all my long-buried abandonment issues to resurface. I have no right to be devasted by his opinion of Alice and Ben’s relationship. But damn if it didn’t cut me to the quick anyway. I was so stupid to believe this man wouldn’t have an effect on me, that we’d both come out of this unscathed.
“It’s probably not smart for us to trust each other, to be honest.” I try to shrug, but I’m too tense. His sudden, thunderous expression isn’t helping either.
