Chapter 15 #3
INTERVIEWER: Well, we’re out of time for today, but I wanted to thank you for meeting with me. I’ve never met one of the mer in the flesh. Are you all so pretty?
CORBIN: Nice try, flatterer.
So there you have it. Halea University may be a haven for shifters, but merfolk are so few and far between that even a stud like Corbin barely knows any.
Until next time!
Jane and I exchange confused glances. “This is… a fluff piece,” I mutter, betrayed. “I… What was the point of that? They didn’t even ask him anything!”
“I think it had a lot of good information,” Jane argues, tapping the end of her ballpoint against the tabletop. “Look, there’s all kinds of jumping off points we could use for future research. I’m going to email this to you, OK?”
“OK,” I grouse. I hate this article. I hate that such serious topics are treated almost playfully. I hate the journalist for his nonchalance. I hate Corbin for his toxic positivity.
My phone rings. I groan when I see the name on the screen. “It’s my ex,” I tell Jane, climbing to my feet. “Can you watch my stuff?”
She nods slowly. I don’t miss the worry in her expression, but I do ignore it. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Great. I’ll be back soon.”
I answer the call just before it drops.
“Hey,” says Jeremy.
The sound of his voice is warm and familiar, rich like chocolate. I miss him instantly. Then I remember how he betrayed me, and something cold washes over me. “Hey, yourself,” I say, because this is how I always answered the phone when we were together. I can’t seem to shake the habit. “What’s up?”
“Yeah,” says Jeremy in a tone that I recognize instantly. My hackles raise. He knows I’m not going to like whatever he has to say next and he isn’t going to soften the blow for the sake of my sanity. “So I need to update you on a few things, and I need you to be mature, OK?”
I stalk through the library doors and down the front steps into the quad, my free hand balled into a fist. Jeremy is four years older than me and often defaults to treating me like a kid.
I hate it. Whenever I’m upset about something he doesn’t want to deal with, he just accuses me of being immature.
I grit my teeth. “What’s up?” I repeat.
“I didn’t want you to find out on social media, and Marc has very graciously agreed to refrain from posting for a few days, but I thought I should let you know that he and I are engaged now.
And we bought a house. And since we’re moving, I found a few of your things. I thought maybe you’d want them back.”
My heart stutters. All sensation flees my body. I am numb. Horrified. Somewhere in the back of my head, I am screaming.
The words fall out of my mouth. “Oh. Congrats.”
He lets out a short laugh. “Thanks. I know it was a quick turnaround time. I wanted to let you know it isn’t personal, alright?”
It isn’t personal. Like fuck it isn’t personal. “We were together two years,” I stammer.
“Yeah, and it didn’t work out, Dominic. Sometimes these things just happen. I found Marc, and you… you’ll be fine.”
My stomach flips.
“Look, you’re young, you’re hot, you have good taste. Somebody will appreciate you, OK?” Jeremy continues, like the issue is a lack of self-esteem and not his total betrayal.
“You cheated on me,” I say. My voice is flat.
“Yeah, this isn’t why I called. If you wanted to talk about this stuff, you should’ve done it earlier.”
A surge of fury. “My mom was dying,” I hiss into the receiver. “I was a little busy.”
“Babe, you let that consume you. Marc was here for me when you weren’t. It’s just how things worked out.”
My legs feel like jelly. I want to punch a wall. Flip a bench. Break down a door. Scream. “But I needed you.”
“Dominic,” he sighs, like I’m being unreasonable. “You were on another planet. All the time. You needed nonstop validation. It was exhausting.”
“We were talking about getting married. It was your idea.” I am going to vomit. I swallow, close my eyes, but the world around me is tilting.
“Yeah. I wanted to get married. I just…” Here his voice finally softens, like maybe he realizes he’s in the wrong. Like maybe he doesn’t want to hurt me anymore. “Not to you.”
“Not to me,” I repeat, more for my own sake than his. “So you cheated on me instead.”
“I couldn’t exactly break up with you,” he says. His voice is getting whiny, which means he’s feeling defensive. “You would’ve freaked.”
“I-You lied,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose.
Campus whirls in circles around me. I feel like I’m on a carousel, only it’s spinning out of control, and there’s no way to jump off.
“Of course I would’ve been upset. I am upset,” I add, because I think I deserve to say it and he deserves to deal with the discomfort of hearing it. “And you did break up with me.”
“Dom. Things weren’t working.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t know that. You didn’t even give me a chance.”
“Do you want your stuff back or not?” I can imagine all too well the way his nostrils flare, the way his eyes narrow and glint beneath thick, well-groomed brows.
“Keep it,” I growl. “Let it haunt you."
Then I hang up the phone.