The Rom Con

He audibly swallows. “You’re right. I screwed up. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” I exclaim, incredulous. Sixth-sensing my change in demeanor, Ash escapes the line of fire by wriggling out of my arms and bolting. Smart dog. “A mistake is forgetting to text me when you’re running late, not going AWOL for six weeks!”

“Six weeks and two days, actually. I counted every one.”

I throw up my hands, exasperated by this man’s contradictions. “I don’t understand you!”

He raises a placating hand. “I’m going to explain myself, but I want you to know that I know there’s no excuse for what I did. I got confused and I panicked, but that doesn’t justify my behavior. I handled things the worst possible way I could have. And I’m so sorry for that, Cassie.” He rakes a hand through his hair, his features twisted with regret. “I can only imagine what you must have thought of me. And then when I found out what you’ve been dealing with here . . . it makes me sick to think about it.”

He does, indeed, look sick. And you know what? I’m not mad about it. I’ve been agitating in an emotional spin cycle for the past month and a half, so it’s nice to see he’s not as impervious as I’d imagined. And as apologies go, he’s off to a strong start, at least. Admission of guilt: check. Taking responsibility: double check.

I’m as magnanimous as a saint when I raise my chin and say, “Go on.”

He coughs nervously. “So for this to make any sense, I have to tell you about an ex-girlfriend.”

Hold up, what? I make a face like he’s just presented me with two-week-old rotting fish. I’m no longer a sensitive, peaceful empath. I’m a hardened street fighter ready to take up arms on the battlefield of love. I will crush my competition with nothing but a nail file and force of will.

“She was my first serious girlfriend, actually. Met her in college, and I was all in. I built her up to be everything. I thought she was ‘The One,’?” he says with a healthy dose of disdain, and I relax a skosh, mentally sheathing my sword. Threat neutralized. “In retrospect, I was clearly searching for the relationship stability I never had growing up. Not that I could see that at the time.” He huffs a short breath. “Anyway, she wasn’t as serious as I was, apparently, because two years in I found out she’d been cheating on me.”

My jaw drops open. How dare this jezebel?! Outrage burns through me on his behalf and I’m seriously reconsidering my cease-fire.

“She knew about my parents, so the betrayal felt that much worse. I was angry and hurt, and I felt so fucking stupid. I was so certain I’d never cheat that it never occurred to me she would. It messed me up for a long time.” He shakes his head, as if to cast off the bad memories. “This was around the time we’d started Brawler, so I threw myself into it and never looked back. And I promised myself I’d never let a woman make a fool of me like that again.”

My stomach twists into a sailor’s knot as I start to grasp exactly where all this is headed.

“So fast-forward to a few months ago,” he continues. “Things were going well for me; better than they’d ever been, in fact. Brawler was doing well, and the deal was coming together. I’d met you. I thought I’d finally found the girl.” We lock eyes, and his expression is so wistful—longing—that I lose my breath. “It felt like the next chapter, like everything I ever wanted was within my reach.” He pauses. “And then I found out you’d been lying to me.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first. There was no way I could’ve been duped that badly again, could I? Sure, you may have acted oddly at times, but I knew our relationship wasn’t fake. And then when you admitted it and explained what happened, I decided to believe you. I wanted to believe you.” He swallows and breaks my gaze, looking back at Ash as he barks at a squirrel. “And then we woke up to that story.”

I feel sick. “Jack, I swear on my life—on my grandmother’s life—I had nothing to do with that story.”

“But how could I have known that? All I knew was you’d admitted to lying—about a lot of things—just hours before. It all felt like too much of a coincidence. In that moment, the only scenario that made any sense to me was that you were behind it, or involved somehow at the very least. I worried that my feelings for you were clouding my judgment, making it impossible for me to see you clearly. And I couldn’t ignore my gut a second time.” He lets out a tortured breath. “So I left.”

“I wish you would’ve told me all this. I would’ve . . . well, actually, I don’t know what I would’ve done,” I admit after a pause. Even I can concede the evidence looked damning; I’m not sure how I could’ve proven my innocence.

“Afterward, I couldn’t stop picking apart our conversations, obsessing over every detail, looking for any clues I’d missed. I drove myself crazy wondering what was the truth and what was a lie. The big things, of course, but also stupid little things, like do you really hate yellow Skittles as much as I do, or were you just telling me what you thought I wanted to hear?”

“Lemon candy should not exist,” I say forcefully.

“My thoughts got pretty dark there for a while,” he continues, and I want to clap my hand over his mouth so I don’t have to hear any more. I hate knowing how unhappy he’s been, even if I’ve been right there with him. “I worried there was more coming, that you might use the things I’d told you about my family against me. I wondered if you were working with other people, or if my dad had put you up to it. I even wondered if you slept with me that night to distract me.”

“Jack.” My heart splinters at the haunted look in his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t really believe that of me.”

“I didn’t say my thoughts were rational. I’m just telling you what was going through my mind.”

Listening to him detail how royally I’ve messed with his head is messing with my head. I feel like I’m seeing him through new eyes, understanding him in a way I previously couldn’t. It’s incredible, really, the deep wounds and insecurities that can be hidden behind a confident exterior.

“If this is what you thought of me, then why are you here now?” I finally ask, unsure what else to say.

“The short answer? I came to my senses.”

I snort a laugh and he flashes me a wry smile.

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