Chapter 7
Harding~
U nfortunately, dinner with Jeremy and our parents hadn’t helped much beyond their emotional support. No one had any idea how to rein Paige in, and I wasn’t even sure if it could be done at this point. After getting her text that she’d call me when she was emotionally ready to speak to me, I’d gotten more calls from other people about Paige reaching out to them, telling them all the business. Paige was also showing no rhyme or reason to who she was contacting or why; she was just calling every-damn-body.
At this point, the silver lining that I could see was that Trista was very private when it came to her internet presence, and so that was going to limit how this might affect her. As long as Paige couldn’t get to her, then we had some breathing room until we could figure this out. While Trista was very aware of her role in all of this, she still had two small children that needed and should be protected from all this adult drama.
I stared at the room service that I had ordered, not really having an appetite for any of it, but knowing that I needed to eat something. I needed to keep my energy up just to be able to form a decent thought if nothing else. However, when my phone rang, all the food was quickly forgotten.
“Paige?”
“What did you want to talk about, Harding?” she asked primly.
“Are you serious?” I choked out. “What do you think? You’re calling my friends and co-workers to air our dirty laundry. You’re sending my family members text messages about what’s going on and to blame them for how they raised me. Have you lost your mind?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, and the steadiness in her voice was enough to take me aback. “I’d never do such a thing.”
What in the fresh hell?
“Paige, people have been calling me all day to tell me how you’ve been calling them,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice from sounding like the victim here.
“All you have to do is look at my social media to see how I’ve been trying to cope with your betrayal, Harding,” she retorted. “I’m looking to God and prayer during this difficult time. While my family and friends have been offering their unwavering support, I am relying on the power of prayer.”
“Paige-”
“And just so you know, most of my prayers are for you,” she went on, confusing me further. Seriously, only Mother Teresa had been that forgiving.
I counted to five before saying, “Paige, the texts and calls are coming from your number. So, who else could it be?”
“That could mean anything.”
“What?”
“Someone else could have sent the texts from my phone, or made the phone calls,” she went on. “You can’t prove it was me.”
Another moment of silence.
“So…so, you just let someone else use your phone?” I questioned, though I knew that she was lying. I’d been with this woman for five years, and her phone had been practically glued to her hands the entire time. “You’re just…just handing your phone out for anyone to use?”
“Maybe I just approved the messages,” she remarked casually.
“What?” I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “What does that even mean?”
“Look, it’s not my fault that your shame has become public-”
“Then whose fault would it be?” I squawked. “I’m not the one telling anyone.”
“-and it’s not my fault that your friends and family are siding with me, which they should quite frankly,” she finished.
“What in the hell are you talking about? No one is siding with anyone,” I informed her. “They’re all just trying to mind their own damn business.”
“Well, a secret this terrible was bound to come out at some point, Harding,” she said, and I was having such trouble following this goddamn conversation. “Did you really think that no one would find out?”
“Of course, people were going to find out,” I practically snapped. “However, not this way. Not with you posting things on social media and calling people to tell them.”
“I didn’t call anyone,” she lied again.
“Paige, you’re lying,” I finally said, unable to keep from calling her out.
After a poignant moment of silence, she said, “I think that you’re the last person that should be remarking on someone’s integrity, Harding. If anyone’s a liar here, it’s you.”
“I never lied to you, Paige,” I pointed out, though it was a weak argument. “I told you as soon as I crossed the line. I might not have known how to address our failing marriage, but I didn’t lie.”
“Are you seriously daring to argue semantics with me?” she huffed. “You’ve betrayed everything that our love stood for, and you’re going to dare say that you never lied to me?”
I pictured our wedding day, and this was not the same woman that I’d fallen in love with. That day, Paige had been a radiant bride and a beacon of beauty, and she’d been positively beautiful. At five-foot-five, she had dark auburn hair, deep brown eyes, and she’d never been one to shy away from a fresh face. Paige was comfortable with or without makeup, and I used to love that about her. She was also very body positive, and though she had minor complaints like most women, she hadn’t ever gone the direction of plastic or cosmetic surgery. Paige had an average frame, and it suited her, giving her a subtle femininity that I had always appreciated.
However, I didn’t recognize any beauty about the woman on the phone right now. I wasn’t sure what kind of game she was playing, but to deny what she’d done was crazy. How could she honestly believe that none of this would trace back to her? How could she possibly think that she’d get away with all this?
Deciding to try a different approach, I said, “Paige, I think it’d be best to handle this with a bit more discretion going forward.”
“You have no right to tell me what’s the best way to process my hurt emotions, Harding,” she replied. “If it wasn’t for you, none of this would be happening.”
“On that we agree,” I quickly replied, giving her what she was owed. “But I still think that there is a better way to handle this.”
“I am handling this the best way that I can,” she bit out tartly. “In the meantime, maybe you should stay away from your whore if you’re so concerned with what people think.”
I counted to five again, trying to rein in my frustrations. While I wasn’t exactly mad at her, I wasn’t feeling very charitable, either. She was turning this thing into a circus and lying about it, making this conversation painfully unproductive.
“Look, I think we need some more time to…to get a grasp on things,” I said. “Would it be possible for us to talk after work on Monday?”
“Depends on how I’m feeling,” she answered. “I might have to take Monday off if I’m still feeling this heartbroken and dejected.”
Jesus Christ.
“Okay, then…then you call me when you’re ready to talk,” I suggested. “I’ll make the time.”
“Well, it’s the least that you can do, don’t you think?”
I let out a deep breath. “I’m really sorry, Paige. I really am. This is not how…if I could go back and do things differently, I would.”
“Oh, you mean that you would have dumped me months ago as opposed to sleeping around on me?” she bit out. “How very noble of you.”
“Paige, c’mon,” I sighed. “We need to have an adult conversation about this.”
“Well, when I’m feeling adult enough for you, I’ll let you know.”
I dropped my head back as she hung up. I honestly didn’t know what to do, or even if there was anything that I could do. It was hard to stay on the moral side of righteousness when you were in the wrong, and I was definitely in the wrong here. Still, there had to be a better way to go about this.
Truthfully, with the way that this was going, I wasn’t even sure if I should meet her privately. She was doing things that I hadn’t ever expected, so what would stop her from making up a story that could get me arrested? Yeah, that might sound a bit paranoid, but this was also a woman that thought it was a good idea to go through my contacts to harass innocent people.
Just then, my phone chimed, and I was almost afraid to look at it. At this point, it could be anyone, and I was tired of explaining something that couldn’t be explained. Yeah, I could chalk it up to a woman scorned, but most scorned women went after the man or the mistress; they didn’t go after random people.
Nevertheless, I checked my phone, and it was to see a text from the real estate agent that had sold us our house, telling me that Paige had called her to tell her that she was sorry for her wasted time.
Jesus fucking Christ.