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I say in a tone that will worm its way into her brain, “Got it. So, we’re fighting as Hayden and Bette over Lizzie and Danny issues. Cool. Now that I know who to be, go ahead. Any more lies you want to spill all over these proceedings?”

She says, “Why didn’t you ever tell me it was you? That’s the lowest fucking prank. Fuck the ping pong balls that almost cost me my career, but this shit—this long con of yours is deplorable.”

I laugh at her. Really? “Long con? What am I, a grifter?”

“Yes,” she says arrogantly and it’s almost too sexy.

“I’ll add it to my resume.” I’m so fucking frustrated, confused, and insanely pissed off.

“Go right ahead, you’ll need it soon,” she says. I’m pure aggression and I want to win, but I also want to collapse in a heap and have her take care of me. How fucked-up is that?

I plant myself in front of her again and she steps back. “Whiplash, darling. Let’s fight over one thing at a time. I didn’t know it was you. In a rational state of mind, you can’t possibly believe I was able to keep that secret for almost five years. You’re delusional. Choose one thing to fight about.”

“Prom.”

“Done.” Jesus, she’s so hot and powerful. I think of my Lizzie finding her voice and evolving into ballbuster Bette and I want her more. She keeps biting her bottom lip. I’d like to do that. She crosses her arms and glares at me, as if daring me not to find her the most attractive woman on the planet.

I step to her and we’re almost chest to chest. I’ll bet she put her sky-high heels on to distract me and even out our heights a bit. She’s shifty and smart. Lizzie wasn’t shifty. What the hell happened to her? She wants to talk about it. Fine. I’ve never told anyone this entire story. I was saving it to spit in her face someday. Welcome to someday.

I put my hands on her hips because I can’t resist touching her for one more second. She flinches the tiniest moment, then relaxes into me. “Sit your perfect ass down.”

Her eyebrows raise.

“That’s sexual harassment.”

“I’m not your boss. I’m your ex-boyfriend. Your ass is perfect. Deal with it.” She huffs, breaks our connection and my arms drop to my side. As she turns, I see a slight smile. I say, “Now. Sit the fuck down so I can tell you my story.”

“No. I’ll stand.” So obstinate. Maddening.

“Fine. After I got your breakup call, I spent the night sitting on my suitcases on Tony and Dax’s back patio. I used all my money on a useless plane ticket and the cab to the airport. Tony and Dax came to get me and took me to their house on the Cape for the weekend. Not the fucking dream weekend I’d planned.”

Her eyebrows knit together and she exhales. “What call? Why are you lying to me now? It’s time to put it all out there and you choose to be a dishonest dick.”

I want to shake this woman. “All truth. Call Dax. Thank God I had them to pull me through. I’ve never been more humiliated and devastated than that weekend.” I back away from her because my voice is betraying my confidence.

“Same,” she bites out.

I yell, “Yo. Crazytown. Why the fuck would you be embarrassed? You did the dumping.”

She slams her finger into my chest. “YOU DID THE DUMPING. Hell, you ditched me on prom night.” Tears spring to her eyes.

I put my hand on her shoulder and she shrugs me off. Fair enough. But it pisses me off further.

I’m setting this record straight. “I did nothing of the kind. I fucking pined for you and nursed my dazed heart for years. I closed the wound the best I could, but trust me, every fucking day since you disappeared from my life feels like a slow bleed of pain and regret. Just a trickle these days, but it’s always fucking there.”

I can tell she’s trying to process, but I can’t stop now.

I move into her eyeline and say, “You changed your email. Blocked my calls. Got a new number. You moved with no forwarding address. You, not me, did all the damage.” I point at her chest. “You didn’t even have the decency to call me yourself. You hid behind your father. I guess he’s the one who really broke my heart.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She looks confused.

How could she not remember? I wonder if this is how she ended her marriage, too. A call from dad.

I cross the room to the kitchen slamming cabinets doors open and shut. She can’t even take responsibility ten years later. She turns and she’s angrier than before. I need to shift away from this. But not before I say my piece.

I put my palms on the kitchen counter and lean over so we’re face-to-face.

My voice is swift and harsh. “I would’ve followed you to the ends of the earth. I would’ve quit football if you told me to. I would’ve buried my life as I buried myself in you. Don’t get it twisted, you fucked me over, in more ways than I can even explain to you. But you don’t deserve to know those things. You have to fucking earn them.”