At least that’s the way she tried to excuse her infidelity.
My eyes flick to the bathroom mirror, and I take a good look at myself. I’m not the same man I was eleven years ago when I started dating Tarryn. Not the same man I was four years ago when we broke up.
My gaze focuses in on Cat’s reflection at the kitchen table behind me.
Hell, I’m not the same man I was two nights ago when I found her sleeping in her car.
“Look Tarryn,” I say with a firm tone as I turn and walk out of the bathroom toward Cat, who looks up at me. “I’ve got company, so I need to get off the phone. But if you’re looking for a training coach, check in with Jake. He’ll hook you up.”
“But I don’t want—”
“Sorry, but I really have to go. Take care,” I say into the phone just before I disconnect.
As I reach the table, I look down at Cat… her big, brown eyes swimming with focused curiosity.
“Ex-girlfriend… Tarryn,” I say by way of explanation. “She has phases where she gets lonely and reaches out to me.”
“How long did you date?” she asks hesitantly. Possibly feeling the need to explain her question, she adds on, “When you meet people within the confines of The Silo, it’s sometimes hard to picture them in real relationships.”
I laugh and sit back down at the table, picking up my fork. Food wasn’t getting any warmer, but I was still hungry. “Seven years. Started when we were seventeen. We met at prep school. She was a competitive alpine skier too.”
Cat’s eyes flare wide in a holy shit type of way. “Seven years is a long time. Which begs the question… how old are you?”
“Twenty-eight,” I tell her before taking another big bite of the meatloaf. It really is pretty good. “And you?”
“Twenty-four. I was twenty-one when I married Samuel.”
“And you’ve got the best of your life still to come,” I tell her.
Cat gives me a faint smile, pushing some macaroni around on her plate before asking, “Why did you two break up? That’s a long time to be with someone.”
“Well, if you ask Tarryn the reasons, she’ll say it’s all my fault,” I tell her with a wry grin.
Cat’s eyes go round and she dips her chin in mock astonishment. With an exaggerated gasp, she teases, “What? No way. Rand Bishop has faults?”
I laugh because she’s cute as all get out. Now that I think about it, I never saw Cat smile very much at The Silo. Damn sure never saw her make a joke, but she’s a fucking natural.
“I’m not without faults,” I tell her, pushing my empty plate away. I contemplate a second helping, but she’s touching on a fairly serious subject even if it’s with some levity. Because even though Tarryn is the one that cheated on me, and it was ultimately the demise of our relationship, I did help drive her there. That’s a tough pill to swallow sometimes.
“Everyone has faults,” Cat says simply. “It’s called being human.”
“Well, to make a long story short, since I’d really rather take you back in the bedroom, I’ve got a white-knight syndrome. Or, at least that’s the definition my best friend, Jake, has labeled me with.”
“A white-knight syndrome?” she asks skeptically with a cocked eyebrow.
“I’m the type who likes to rescue the damsel in distress. Or so Jake seems to think.”
“But you don’t think that?”
I shrug. “Tarryn has her fair share of issues. She didn’t have an easy life growing up, but her natural talent on the slopes got her a full ride to Carrabassett Valley, which is how we met. I saw her skiing as a way for her to have a different life, so I tried to help push her along.”
“Encouragement is good,” Cat points out.
“Yeah… it wasn’t just encouragement. I mean, I really pushed at her. Pushed her to train, lead a clean lifestyle, and work harder than she ever has in her life. Because that’s what I did to be at the top of the game, and I wanted the same for her. It was her ticket out of a mediocre life. It takes hardcore training to compete at the Olympic level. Tarryn’s a great skier, but she’s not a great athlete. I wanted her to follow me in my path, and really… she just wanted to be a regular girl. She didn’t want the gold medals the way I did, and I just couldn’t understand it.”
Cat’s face softens with understanding. “You wanted it bad for her, but she didn’t want it for herself.”