Then I invited, “Say what you have to say to make you feel better for whatever it is you feel shit about, Mike, so I can get on with my day. But, do me a favor, cut out the meaningless, flowery compliments and do it quick-like. I’ve got shit to do.”
“I need you to understand why I’ve come to the decision I’ve made.”
I tipped my head to the side and asked, “Does it matter if I don’t want to understand?”
“It matters to me,” he said, his voice softer and quieter.
I threw out a hand magnanimously. “Well, by all means, Mike. Sock it to me.”
He held my eyes and kept talking in that soft, quiet but reserved voice, “This is hard enough, sweetheart.”
Well, poor you, I thought but kept my mouth shut. Me speaking was prolonging this farce.
He correctly ascertained I was not going to reply so he kept speaking.
“We didn’t have the time for me to explain what happened in my marriage. And we didn’t have the time for me to share about Violet. I did tell you that those experiences meant I knew what I wanted and what I didn’t.”
That hurt and I didn’t even know what he was talking about. That was exactly how much I liked him. That was exactly how much I wanted to believe that dream I had two weeks ago, the impossible dream happening at the impossible time after my brother fucking died was real. I liked him so much that he could say nothing and it still cut like a knife.
“There are other things too,” he carried on. “You mentioned you want children. I have two and I don’t want more. You live in Texas. I live here. You have a good life there, good friends and you do something you love. There is no way, if this was to work out, I could join you there. Then there’s Debbie –”
At my sister’s name, my back went straight and I interrupted, “Debbie?”
“Yeah, Debbie.”
“What does she have to do with this?”
“Honey, I took her virginity. We were teenagers but we were lovers for a year and a half and she’s your sister.”
“You didn’t mind that two weeks ago,” I reminded him.
“I’ve had time to think about it and other shit has come up.”
“Right, well get on with the other shit, Mike,” I encouraged cuttingly.
His eyes got softer, warmer but they were still remote, “Honey, this doesn’t have to be ugly.”
He was wrong about that. It already was.
I didn’t reply.
He held my gaze. Then he took in a visibly massive breath.
Then he started, “She did it for the right reasons. I can see you’re pissed but I’d like to ask that you don’t take that out on her.”
I felt my eyebrows draw together. “What are you talking about?”
I hoped like hell it wasn’t Debbie. If my bitchface sister got hold of Mike and filled his head with shit to take him away from me, I would not be responsible for what I would do.
He again held my gaze and he was warring with something. I could see it plain as day on his face.
Then he moved and I watched as he rounded the couch. It didn’t hit me until he bent and picked up two books that were sitting on his coffee table. And it didn’t even really hit me as I stared at those books that were vaguely familiar as he walked back to the place he’d stood before, five feet away from me.
Then I remembered those books and every inch of my body froze.
“Rhonda found them,” he said gently and my eyes moved to his face to see there was pain in it. Not a little bit of it either. And even as angry as I was, I had to admit, it hurt to see. “She brought them to me asking me to help you. I know and she knows about Denny Lowe.”
I stared at him, speechless.
Mike wasn’t speechless.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but Darrin found these and he knew too.”
I continued to stare at him silently.
Mike kept talking.
“I loved reading how you felt about me. It’s beautiful and straight up, Angel, I’ll treasure it. Swear to God, I will. But I hated reading what Denny did to you and I’m sorry, so sorry I can’t say, you went through that. And, if you’ve got issues about Denny, you can always get help. I know time has passed but even demons that have dug deep can be pulled out. And after we’re done talking, if you still want my help, I can give you names of people you can talk to that might help you deal.”
That was when I spoke.
“You read them?”
Mike nodded.
“You read my journals?” I asked again just to confirm.
“I did, Dusty. It killed me to read a lot of what I read but I read it. And now Rhonda is worried because, without sharing your secret, Darrin told her repeatedly he was worried that you weren’t making good decisions about men because of what happened with Lowe. And LeBrec could be a prime example of that. You need to think about that and what you’re going to do to make smarter choices before more of your life slides by.”
“So you’re breaking up with me because you found out a guy who turned out to be a serial killer felt me up.”
He blinked, his chin jerking back with his blink and hesitated a moment before he said, “It’s more complicated than that.”
“No, it isn’t,” I shot back.