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“You don’t have to be.” He avoids looking at me, and now I feel like the asshole.
“I said I would give you another chance.” I take the steps toward him, closing the distance. “And that means we leave whatever it is in the past.” I stand next to him, and he looks at me. I wrap my arms around his waist like I always used to.
“Do you have the recipe?” I ask. He nods, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and leaning down to kiss the top of my head.
Side by side, we start to prepare the meal. “Let’s catch up,” he suggests to me as we take the shells off the shrimp.
“Ohhh, twenty questions.” I wink at him. “This is better than never have I ever.” He laughs. “You first.”
“Okay,” he agrees, not making eye contact with me when he asks the question. “Did you really sleep with someone after me?” Damn, talk about not beating around the bush, I think to myself.
I avoid looking at him with this question, my hands busy working on the shrimp. “Yes,” I reply, looking over at him. I see he closes his eyes, and my stomach sinks for just a second before I get pissed.
“How many girls have you slept with since me?” I ask, my voice coming out harder than I want it to.
He puts the shrimp down in the bowl and looks up at me. “Zero. Not before, not after,” he answers, and I want to tell him that he’s fucking lying, but he’s never lied to me before, never. “I may have cheated on you by bringing a woman home and having her naked on me, but just so you know,” he declares, his eyes making sure I’m looking into his, “I never fucked her.”
I gasp. “I was there,” I remind him, walking over to the sink and washing my hands off. “I saw it with my own eyes.”
“You were there,” he says calmly while I’m ready to bounce around the room with the pent-up rage in me. “And she was there, but I pushed her away from me right before you texted me.” My stomach that was a ball of nerves two seconds ago is now feeling like it’s sunk to the bottom of my feet. He avoids looking at me. “So I cheated on you by kissing her and letting her touch me. But it stopped the minute she touched my dick.”
“Excuse me.” I rush out of the room and go straight to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. My chest rises and falls as if I just went running outside. I put my head back against the door, and I swear I can hear his words again clear as day, I never fucked her. “Motherfucker,” I hiss, pissed, then I hear a knock on the door. I should calm down before I rip it open, but I don’t. “I need a minute,” I tell him as he stands there looking so fucking hot it should be illegal.
“I gave you a minute,” he says, and I glare at him.
“No, you gave me a second,” I say angrily, and he looks down. “You come in here and just throw out that you never fucked that girl.” My heart is beating so fucking fast and hard I can’t hear anything, so my voice goes so loud as he stares at me.
“What difference does it make?” He stands there, his eyes roaming my whole face. “I still cheated on you. I brought a girl to my house and put my hands on her. I let her touch my body.” His words cut me to the core, but it’s more than that, so much more.
“I slept with someone.” I put my hands to my chest. “I slept with someone,” I repeat the words again, but this time, my voice trails off.
“We weren’t even together.” He throws his hands up, and it just angers me even more.
“Go away!” I shout at him, and he folds his arms over his chest.
“Why are you pissed right now?” he asks, his stance showing me he’s not going anywhere.
“Because I slept with someone to get back at you!” I admit, shouting. “I didn’t even want to sleep with him, but I did anyway because I was like, if Romeo can do it, so can I.” I put the hand to my chest. “I did it to get back at you, yes, but in the end, I slept with him.” I shake my head, trying to wrap my brain around what just happened.
“So he wasn’t better than me?” He smirks at me, and now I’m the one with my hands folding over my chest.
“Really? That’s the only thing bothering you right now?” I glare at him. “Out of everything I just said, that is the only thing you are picking up?”
“Well, does it bother me you were with someone?” His voice now goes low.
“More than I can put into words.” His hands fall to his sides, and he clenches his fists together. “Does it bother me that I made you do that?” My heart speeds up. “Again, you have no idea, but I have to take responsibility that my actions pushed you to do that.” He takes a step toward me. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” I look down at the floor, and I see his hand come up and go under my chin to raise it to look at him. “You did nothing wrong.” I look into his eyes. “I’m sorry I did that to you.” He kisses my lips softly. “It also helps that he sucked,” he jokes with me, and I push away from him.
“You’re a dick,” I retort before I slam the door in his face.
“I’ll meet you in the kitchen after you calm down,” he addresses the closed door. “Love you, beautiful.”
I want to yell out that I hate him, but instead, I don’t say anything. I just listen to his footsteps walk away from the door. When I know he’s gone, I let out a big exhale before walking over to the sink and turning on the water. “He never slept with her,” I tell myself. “Good God.” I shake my head, cupping water in my hands and then washing my face with it. “All this and he didn’t even fuck her.” I shake my head. I don’t know whether to be happy or pissed that he didn’t. “It doesn’t change what I did.” I hear his voice clear as day. “I brought her home and put my hands on her.” I close my eyes, blocking out the image from my head. An image that now comes with him pushing her off him.
I wipe off my hands before opening the door and walking back into the kitchen, the smell of garlic is now filling the room. “Hi,” he throws over his shoulder while he moves the pot to stir the shrimp. “Feeling better?” I don’t say anything to him. “Are we still talking?” I glare at him. “Maybe we should refrain from the twenty questions,” he jokes and comes over to me and wraps me in his arms and I let him. “Why don’t you go sit down and put on a show we can watch?”
“You can’t charm me with television.” I look up at him, and even he knows I’m lying. When I had a stressful day or any time I just felt off, he knew right away and would let me just sort it out.
“Why don’t we catch up with Below Deck Down Under?” he suggests, kissing my lips and then my neck. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
