"Yeah. And she actually said that if I'd been better in bed, she wouldn't have had to go to my best friend for sex in the first place. So, that killed my ego."
Fury fills my brain. "You need to be better in bed?! Is she freaking kidding? Was she even sleeping with the same man I am? Because if you were any better in bed, my orgasms would kill me!" I step away from him and pace the length of the room. What a ridiculous goddamn claim. "That woman is a complete moron."
"This is why I was glad when you said you didn't want to know. She'd like nothing better than to see you like this. I have no doubt that's why she started texting me."
I stop dead and stare at him. "What's she been saying?"
He pulls out his phone and brings up her messages before handing it to me. "I'm warning you, it's pretty bad. Just know that this is what she does. She pushes people's buttons. It makes her feel powerful. The whole thing boils down to insecurity and jealousy."
I hold my breath as I read what she's written. "What the …? She threatened to come here tonight?"
Ethan nods. "She's just as delusional as she always was."
I exhale when I see Ethan's reply: <Please stop contacting me. Like I said, I wish you all the best with your life. Now please leave me to mine.>
Wow, that's polite. It also uses more words than, "Fuck off, manipulative cow," but whatever. Ethan's clearly more evolved than I am about this woman. I scan the next collection of texts.
"What the hell?" The bitch has the nerve to say they still have chemistry and then sends a full-length picture of herself in lingerie?!
That's it. I'm going to kill her. I'll do it slow, too. She won't die for days.
I squint at the screen. Wait a second. I have that exact set of bra and panties. Ethan bought it for me.
I scroll down and snort when I read Ethan's reply.
<Vanessa, sorry you thought there could ever be anything between us again. There can't. I hate to say it, but you’re not a good, kind, or particularly well-adjusted person, and I’m having trouble remembering what I ever saw in you. I apologize for my bluntness, but considering the nature of your recent texts, I figure you need a dose of cold, hard facts to banish any misconceptions you may have. The truth is I’m lucky enough to be deeply in love with the most spectacular goddamn woman on the planet, and as tough as this may be to hear, she looks waaaay hotter in that Chanel ensemble than you. So, goodbye Vanessa, we won’t be speaking again. And to prove how not-interested I am in keeping in contact, I'm blocking your number. Take care and Merry Christmas. Ethan.>
The passion in his words makes my throat close up. I’ve never seen a more perfectly worded smackdown. I look over at him. “You know, I do look better in that lingerie.
He gives me a smug smile. "Yeah, you do."
I walk over and slide the phone back into his pocket. "So, I guess you're not leaving me for her?"
"Jesus, sweetheart, why would I do that? Besides the fact that you’re the love of my life, she's a goddamn sociopath." He puts his arms around me. "But you know what? Even with her mind games and manipulations, I’m not angry about what she did in the past. I mean, I've imagined what I'd do if I ever ran into her, and honestly, most of those scenarios involved me running into her with my car. But when I was faced with the actual woman standing there, all I felt was ... grateful."
Okay, wasn't expecting that. "Why grateful?"
"Because if it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't be who I am today. And I really like who I am. I mean, despite what you keep telling me, I know I'm not perfect –"
"Lies," I say and wind my arms around his neck.
"And I still tend to be an asshole on the regular, but I'm a happy asshole." He cups my face and rubs his thumb over my cheekbone. "An asshole who's lucky enough to be marrying the most beautiful, sexy, talented, incredible woman in the world. And in a way, I owe that all to Vanessa."
He leans down and kisses me, and his mouth is warm and sweet, and affects me in too many ways to describe. In that moment, I know for sure that he never kissed Vanessa with this much passion.
When he pulls back, we're both breathless.
"I'm sorry," I say. "For doubting you. For being a paranoid mess."
He presses his forehead to mine. "Don't apologize. In this situation, paranoia is normal. But trust me when I say that you never have to worry about me having feelings for someone else. As far as women go, I have tunnel vision. All I see – all I want to see – is you. And as for Vanessa, I actually feel sorry for her, because she's never going to know a love like ours. She's incapable of it, and that's a fucking shame. Because everyone should get to feel how I feel about you."