“Jesus. Your breath stinks, buddy.” At least I thought it was Murphy’s. It was possible it was actually my own.
I shut my laptop and took off my glasses to rub my eyes. How the fuck was I going to tell her? I’d been cooped up in my apartment for two days, hadn’t showered, barely ate, and felt completely defeated. Rachel must’ve taken the hint that I was blowing her off since she hadn’t texted me since yesterday.
I realized just how crazy about her I was when I debated never telling her for the hundredth time. It wouldn’t be such a difficult decision if there weren’t so much to lose. And I’d definitely lose her. How could she ever trust me after she found out we’d known each other fifteen years ago? That I’d lied to her for months? That I’d taken something she held so sacred—a priest she trusted—and manipulated her through a screen each and every week.
If I told her, I was going to lose her. Hell, I wouldn’t trust anyone who pulled that kind of shit.
But if I didn’t tell her, everything we had and everything to come would be based on even more lies.
I’d been selfishly trying to justify never telling her. Telling myself I’d be hurting her twice by coming clean. I knew she cared about me. I’d be reopening old wounds I doubted she wanted to revisit. Why not let sleeping dogs lie?
There was one thing I couldn’t get past—I didn’t want to be another man who let her down. She deserved better than that. Fuck. She deserved someone better than me. I tugged at my hair as I raked my hands through.
Tell her the truth and lose her—while hurting her in the process.
Lie to her face and try to move on with that lie always between us.
Even though I’d wasted two days debating the issue, deep down I knew there was no real fucking choice. I couldn’t keep lying to her.
The only consolation was that once she hated me, it would be easier for her to move on. At least it would be easier for one of us. And my prolonging things was only being selfish.
I reached for my phone just as it illuminated. We hadn’t had contact in more than twenty-four hours, so the timing of her text was impeccable.
Rachel: How about some chicken soup? I could stop over after work tonight.
I stared at my phone for a while, hesitating. It was one thing to live on death row, but another to have your execution date set. Before I could grow a pair of balls to answer, a second text came in.
Rachel: I get off work at eight.
I didn’t want her driving at night while she was angry or upset. It was time I grew some balls.
Caine: I’ll come to your place about nine.
After a shower, I decided to take Murphy for a long walk to clear my head and kill some time. We’d made it a block and a half when a thought crossed my mind.
“What do you say to an afternoon road trip?”
Murphy wagged his tail, so I took that as a yes. If I stayed cooped up in my apartment anymore, I was going to lose it. I needed to get out and clear my head. Might as well make the day a good one for someone…
An hour later, we were walking into the main building at Regency Village. I’d called ahead to make sure it was okay to stop by, and the nurse had said she’d let Lydia and Umberto know I was coming. Lydia was waiting in the reception area. Her eyes lit up when she saw me and Murphy.
She bent to pet him. “He looks just like our Max.”
“This is Murphy. I figured Umberto might like a visit.”
“You have no idea. This is going to make his day—probably his year. No matter where his head is, he never forgets that damn dog.” Lydia looked around. “Is Rachel with you?”
“No, just me. I was in the area so I thought we’d stop by,” I lied.
“That’s so sweet of you, Professor West.”
“Call me Caine, please.”
“Caine it is.” She smiled and nodded as she stood from petting Murphy. “Umberto is taking a nap right now. He should be up soon. Would it be alright if we took a walk? It might seem odd, but I’d love to hold the leash and walk around the property. My husband and I used to take a walk with Max every night after dinner, right before we had our tea and cookies.”
“Of course.” I offered Lydia the leash and my arm. She took both, and we headed outside for a stroll under the blue skies.
“So tell me, Caine. Are you married?”
“No, not married.”
“Handsome young man like you with such a sweet dog, women must be falling at your feet.”
I’d never been the type of person to talk about a woman I was seeing—not even in college when the other guys couldn’t keep their mouths shut. But what the hell.
“There’s a lady in my life, but I did something stupid and screwed it up.”
“Oh? I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want to talk about it? I have more than fifty years of marriage experience. Maybe I can help you fix things.”
“It’s not something that can be fixed so easily.”
Lydia was quiet for a long time. “Do you love this lady?”
I’d been avoiding figuring out the answer to that question. But lying to Lydia was harder than lying to myself for some reason. I nodded.
“I think I might. I have no idea when it happened, though.”
She smiled. “That’s how it happens. You just turn around one day and it hits you right in the face as if it’s been there all along and you were too blind to see it. That’s the thing about true love—we never see the beginning or the end.”
Great. No end in sight. Just what I need to hear before Rachel dumps my ass.
Lydia must’ve noticed my dejected face. She squeezed my arm. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s all going to work out. When you’re in love, mistakes can be fixed.”
“I’m not sure some mistakes are fixable.”
“Have you told her about whatever it is that you’ve done wrong?”
I shook my head.
“We all make mistakes. Life doesn’t come with instructions. Someone who loves you will forgive you for them. But when you hide them or lie about them, they’re no longer mistakes—they’re decisions.”
“To be honest, I’ve been avoiding her for a few days, knowing that when I come clean, she’s going to get hurt.”
“Well, unfortunately, the truth does hurt sometimes. Another woman makes my husband happy now after more than fifty years of marriage. It’s not always easy. But in the long run, it’s better to hurt someone with the truth than make them happy with lies. Because she can make the decision to move on with the truth. Lies keep you stuck in place.”
Lydia wasn’t kidding that she’d learned a thing or two in her fifty-plus years of marriage. The window of doubt about telling Rachel the truth finally slammed shut. I reached over and squeezed Lydia’s hand. “Umberto’s a very lucky man.”