When I Was Yours

“Evie?” I growl. Jesus, it hurts to even say her name.

He puts the glass down, lifting a brow at me. “By the way, thanks for telling me that you were still married, fuckface. Gotta say, I didn’t see that coming.”

I don’t even have the energy to be sorry for not telling him. “I told you that she was back. You didn’t need to know any more than that.”

Ignoring me, he says, “I’m going to take it that you were severely embarrassed by the fact that you never filed those annulment papers, and that’s why you hid it from me. For future reference, I already know what a loser you are, so you don’t need to hide anything from me. And I’ll also forgive you for not telling me that you were fucking her again because I already figured that one out. You don’t need to be a genius to know that—even though I am a genius. You and Evie never could be in the same room without mauling each other.”

“I don’t want a fucking history lesson,” I say through gritted teeth. “What I want to know is why you were talking to Evie.”

“Because you were in hiding, and she clearly had the answer as to why.”

“And?”

“And we talked. She told me everything, including what happened the other day. She told me why she…left you.”

I look away.

“I’m so sorry, man.” His hand comes down on my shoulder, squeezing before letting go. “Ava hit a new all-time low with that one.”

I drop my head, running my hand into my hair. I don’t want him to see the hurt on my face.

“I knew you had to be in a fucked-up place right now, and as you weren’t at your office or the hotel, I thought I’d check Reilly’s before driving to Malibu. Glad you were here though ’cause I don’t enjoy driving in traffic. But I didn’t want you to be alone. Thought you might need to talk.”

“I don’t need to talk. And I really fucking want to be alone.”

“Yeah, you might think that, but I know you, and you being alone right now isn’t the best idea. You definitely need to talk because I know exactly how you’re spinning this shit in your head. So, let’s talk.” He turns in his seat to face me.

Moving my hand from my head, I flick a look at him. Then, I pick my vodka up and drain the glass. Pushing the glass down the bar, I get the fresh vodka Max ordered for me, and I down that as well. I lift a hand to the barman, signaling for another.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Max,” I say when I realize he’s not going anywhere.

“Sure there isn’t. You find out that your mother fucked you over in the worst possible way, and now, it’s just plain sailing and daisies.”

I ignore him, staring straight ahead.

“Evie’s hurting, Adam, just as badly as you are.”

“I don’t care if she’s hurting,” I snap.

I don’t mean that. It kills me. It’s all killing me.

“She should have told me the truth.” My fingers curl around the empty glass.

“Come on, you’re not being fair.”

“Not being fair? Are you fucking kidding me?”

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