Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
JADE
Devon’s late getting home from work, but nothing surprises me anymore.
I sit on the couch with my laptop open, pretending to work, but the cursor has been blinking on the same empty page for hours. I've rehearsed this confrontation so many times that the words seem robotic now.
I keep thinking about that night. I know you said it was a mistake, but it didn't feel like one. Not to me.
The message is scorched into my memory.
Mistake.
Devon told me nothing happened. He looked into my eyes—God; he was inside me—and swore nothing happened. But he told Mila, ‘it was a mistake.’
What was?
Mistakes don't come from thin air.
I hear his car pull into the driveway and my pulse ricochets.
Oh my God.
I close my laptop with trembling hands, my blood pounding in my ears.
Then the front door opens, and I almost lose my shit there and then.
Keep calm.
"Hey." Devon drops his gym bag by the door, running a hand through his hair. He looks drained, but there's something in his eyes that wasn't there this morning. Guilt, I think. Or fear. "Sorry I'm late. I got held up at the gym."
Probably another fucking lie.
"It's fine."
It’s really fucking not.
He pauses, reading my face. “Are you okay?"
"We need to talk."
The color drains from his face. He knows I know something.
"Sure." He moves toward the couch but stops when I don't make room for him. "What's going on?"
I keep my voice level. The rage is there, bubbling beneath the surface, but I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart.
No fucking way.
“So, Mila’s texting you, Devon?”
He’s ghostly white now. "What?"
If he tries to deny it, I’ll murder him. I’ll do it right here and now—I swear to God. I don’t care about jail right now.
"Your phone was in the bathroom this morning. I saw the message."
Guilt flashes over his handsome fucking face, and I resist the urge to punch it.
"Jade—"
"I keep thinking about that night. I know you said it was a mistake, but it didn't feel like one. Not to me.” I drawl, watching his reaction. "What mistake, Devon?"
He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then he chickens out.
What can he say?
His fists clench at his sides, and I watch him panic as he searches for an explanation that won't shatter us.
"It's not what you think."
Those cliché fucking words. It’s always the woman who gets it wrong, isn’t it? We assume the worst, us silly women. We think wrong. That’s what these pathetic men focus on. I cannot believe this.
"Then tell me what it is." The rage owns my voice, and Devon’s eyes widen.
"She's—" He stops and swallows. "She's been texting me. I didn't respond. I should have blocked her, I know, but—"
"What was the mistake?"
"There wasn't—"
"Don't." My voice cracks and I hate it. "Don't you dare lie to me again."
Devon's face crumples. For one second, he looks like the boy I fell in love with—vulnerable and scared and so fucking sorry. But that boy would never have done this to me.
"We kissed."
I go ice cold.
"What?"
"In her hotel room. That night." His voice is so quiet, I have to focus to hear the words. "I was drunk, and she—we kissed. But I stopped it, Jade. I swear to God, I stopped it and passed out in that chair. That's all that happened."
Oh, that’s it, is it? Just a kiss? I stare at him. The room spins, like I'm watching this conversation happen to someone else.
He kissed her.
He kissed Mila.
My husband kissed another woman on our anniversary, and then he came home and told me—
"You said nothing happened." My voice is barely a whisper, but I know he heard me.
"Because a kiss isn't—"
Is he being fucking serious? A kiss isn’t what? A betrayal? Tell that to my heart, you fucker.
"You said nothing, Devon!" The words burst out of me. "You looked me in my eyes and told me nothing happened! I asked you—I begged you to tell me the truth—"
"I know—"
"—and you lied! Over and over, you fucking lied!"
I'm on my feet now, though I don't remember standing. Devon reaches for me, but I flinch back like his touch will burn.
“Don't fucking touch me!”
"Jade, please, it didn't mean anything, I swear—"
It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean anything?
A kiss isn’t—
"Then why hide it?" My voice breaks on the word hide. "If it meant nothing, why not tell me? Why let me spend the last two weeks tearing myself apart, wondering if I was crazy for not believing you?"
Devon is silent, his face ashen.
He kissed Mila. I can’t stop imagining the sight of the two of them, so fucking perfect and hungry for each other—
"Oh, my God." I press my hands to my face, trying to hold myself together. "Oh my God, Devon!”
"Jade, it was one kiss. One stupid, drunken kiss that I regret more than anything—"
"You had sex with me last night! You promised me while you were inside me, Devon—and the whole time you knew. You knew you were lying to me."
"I wasn't—"
"You were!" I'm crying now, hot tears streaming down my face, and I don't care. Let him see what he's done. Let him drown in my tears. "I asked you, Devon, point blank. Did anything happen? And you said no. You held my gaze as you fucked me and you and said no."
He flinches like I've slapped him.
"I didn't know how to tell you," he whispers. "I was scared you'd leave me.”
"So, instead you let me believe I was paranoid? You let me think I was losing my fucking mind?"
The audacity of this man—
"No—"
"Yes!" I grab the nearest thing—a fucking pillow—and hurl it at him. He doesn't dodge it either. "That's exactly what you did! Every time I questioned something, or I found another hole in your story, you made me feel like I was the problem. Like my intuition was wrong."
"Jade—"
"What else?" The question comes out in a hiss. “What else haven't you told me?”
"Nothing."
"Bullshit!”
“I swear, there's nothing else—”
"Then why is she texting you about that night like there's more?" I step closer, close enough to see the fear in his eyes. "Why does she think it meant something?"
His hesitation tells me everything.
"Devon."
"I don't know." His voice cracks. "She's been saying things about that night—things I don't remember—"
This fucking man! I clench my fists so hard my knuckles stretch.
"What things?"
He won't look at me. "She said we did more than kiss. She said we—” He stops, shaking his head. "But that didn’t happen. I passed out. Then I woke up feeling sick and confused—"
“Confused?”
I’m going to murder him. Then her.
“Are you telling me you don't even know what happened?"
"No! I know nothing else happened—”
"You didn't tell me about the kiss, Devon! How am I supposed to believe there's nothing else?"
He has no answer, because what can he fucking say?
I step backward, putting distance between us, because if I stay close, I will either hit him or collapse, and I refuse to do either.
"I can't do this."
"Jade, wait—"
"No." I hold up my hand, and he freezes. “You kissed the one woman I hate. The woman who tried her best to make my life hell whenever you weren’t looking, Devon.”
Devon stares at me. “What?” His voice is ragged, like he’s parched and dying of thirst. “Jade, you never—”
“Told you?” My eyes feel like they’re going to burst through my sockets. “Well, I’m telling you now. You fucking kissed the woman who laughed at my sunburned skin, who made constant jokes and remarks about my weight.”
I can’t stop crying, and Devon is now too. Tears stream from his eyes, and I delight in it. I want to lick them from his face and taste his pain.
“The one woman who wanted the boy I was in love with. And you know what, Devon?” I take a deep breath. “That boy didn’t ever look at her fucking twice. He’d be so disgusted right now. Just like I am.”
“Jade, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she did those things.” His voice is hollow, like my heart.
“So?” I bark out a laugh. “You wouldn’t have kissed her if you knew? You’re so fucking pathetic, Devon. I don’t even know you right now.”
“I swear, I didn’t—”
“Didn’t what?” Spit flies from my mouth, and I don’t care. I probably look deranged, feral even. “Didn’t fuck my bully?”
A sob catches in his throat.
“I would never fuck anyone else, Jade, I swear! Come on, you know me!”
“Do I? I asked you to come home. I gave you the chance to be honest with me. And you lied. Again."
"I was trying to protect you—"
"You were protecting yourself!" The truth burns. "You weren't thinking about me, Devon. You were thinking about what you'd lose if I knew."
I’m suddenly conscious of my weight. I’m too fucking fat for him. This is what caused this—he must’ve been sick of being with a fucking fat mess.
I grab my keys from the counter. My wallet. My phone.
"Jade, please don't leave. We can work through this—"
"I believed you." My voice is hollow now. "Last night, when you were fucking me, I believed every word you said. I let you touch me, thinking we were healing." I meet his eyes. "Do you have any idea how that feels? To know you were lying the whole time? I’m so fucking stupid.”
Devon reaches for me, but I'm already walking toward the door.
"Jade—"
"I'm going to Katrina's."
"For how long?"
I stop with my hand on the doorknob and turn to look at him one last time—the man I've loved since I was eighteen years old. This stranger wearing my husband's face.
"I don't know."
Then I walk out, and I don't look back.