Chapter 39
February 15, 2024
February 15 sneaks up on me quickly.
It’s the morning after Valentine’s Day. It’s the day I find out that Tristan has been cheating on me—that he’s fathered a child with another woman behind my back.
As my eyes adjust to my bedroom, I see the well-worn spot in the blankets on the other side of the bed—Tristan’s side of the bed.
A boulder digs into the pit of my stomach. I’ll be waking up with Tristan from now on. We were together for three years. That’s three years’ worth of mornings waking up next to him ...
Just the thought of that makes me want to puke.
I swallow it back, along with the sudden surge of panic. I knew this was coming all along, but I didn’t want to think about it. Now that day is here, and I have no idea how I’m going to handle it, handle this new normal of living life backward with someone I hate.
This is my worst fucking nightmare.
My breathing starts to kick up. My heart is racing even though I’m lying in bed. I take a handful of deep breaths to calm myself.
I wait for clarity to set in, for some magical solution to fall from the sky that will show me how I can avoid it all ... but it never comes.
I keep breathing until that tightness in my chest eases.
It’s not long before I figure out what I need to do. It’s nothing magical. Not even close.
It’s what I’ve done every day since I woke up in this backward world.
It’s simple: live through it.
If every day I have to wake up with Tristan, then so be it. I’ll do it. I don’t really have a choice.
But I have a choice on how I spend each day. And each day, after I wake up, I’m going to tell him I know. About Carly, about the affair, about their baby. I’ll tell him we’re over. I’ll kick him out of the house. And I’ll spend the rest of that day without him, relishing the joy of it. Because when I wake up in the morning, I’ll have to do it all over again.
The thought is daunting. Actually, more like fucking demoralizing. But this is my life now. If I have to fight with him and break up with him every day for three years, then that’s what I’ll do. It’s my dignity. It’s my happiness. And they’re worth fighting for, every single day.
The faint sound of a low voice coming from the kitchen pulls me out of my thoughts. A second later I hear another low voice.
Milo’s here. He’s confronting Tristan about his affair.
I shiver despite the thick down comforter on top of me. I know what happens today, but I don’t know the details. I don’t know if Tristan and Milo get into another fistfight. I don’t know if they get loud enough for the neighbors to hear and they end up calling the police. I don’t know how bad it all gets.
Nerves crackle at the pit of my stomach. A cold sweat breaks out across the back of my neck. Through the crack in my bedroom door, I can hear Tristan’s tone get angrier and louder.
I lean forward and strain my ears so I can hear him.
“You think you can barge into my home and ruin my marriage?”
“No one’s ruining your marriage besides you, Tristan. You’re the one who decided to cheat on Riley. No one forced you to do that. This is all on you, you selfish—”
A soft thud cuts Milo off. The anxiety inside me kicks up.
Live through it.
I walk out of the bedroom, down the hallway, barely glancing at Coco, who’s sprawled on the back of the couch, a pink bow tied to her collar. She’s the one good thing to come out of today’s impending disaster.
I make it to the kitchen and see that Tristan has Milo by the collar of the sweatshirt he’s wearing and is pulling him away from the wall. They both pivot their heads to me.
“What is going on?” I blurt.
Tristan releases his cousin and steps away from him. Milo tugs at the hem of his shirt, chest heaving as he breathes in.
Tristan’s sky-blue eyes dart to Milo, then to me again. He forces a smile. “Nothing. Milo was just stopping by.”
I look over at Milo, who’s glaring at his cousin. When he pivots his gaze to me, he immediately softens.
“Riley, I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, on the day after your anniversary of all days, but ...”
I catch Tristan balling both hands in his fists as he turns to Milo. “You fucking prat.”
“Tristan is cheating on you,” Milo says without even acknowledging his cousin’s insult. “I saw him. I saw him with Carly the other day. I saw them kiss. I-I saw that Carly was ...”
He hesitates. His face twists, like it physically pains him to get the words out.
“She’s pregnant, Riley. With Tristan’s baby.” Milo makes a face like he’s tasted something bitter. “I confronted Tristan and told him that he needs to come clean to you. But clearly he didn’t.”
Tristan starts to charge Milo, but I dart between them. “Tristan, stop!” I press a palm on his chest, and he halts instantly. He falls back, his eyes dazed as he looks at me.
“Don’t believe anything this piece of rubbish says about me, love. He’s clearly out to get me ...”
“Tristan. Stop.” Somehow my low, steady, firm tone is more compelling than when I shouted that same command a moment ago.
Tristan gazes at me, his eyes wide with panic. “Riley, don’t tell me that you believe him.”
I drop my hand from his chest and step back until I’m standing next to Milo and we’re both facing Tristan.
I don’t say a word. I stay quiet and observe the look of disbelief take over Tristan’s face as I choose to stand next to his cousin over him.
As Tristan stammers, I glance up at Milo. I take in the pained look on his face.
“I’m sorry, Riley. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I just ...,” Milo says.
My chest aches at the emotions playing out across his face.
“You don’t deserve this,” he finally says. “I’m sorry.”
He touches my arm. I close my eyes for a long second, savoring the comfort of his touch.
I turn back to Tristan, whose expression is now one of disbelief as he looks between us.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath. His expression shifts to hard. Irate. I watch him ball his hands into fists. I tense, preparing to stand between the two of them again to prevent yet another fistfight.
But Tristan stays planted in his spot, just a few feet away from us. He glares at his cousin. “I fucking knew it. You’ve always fancied Riley. You fucking lowlife.”
“Tristan . . .”
“You’ll say anything to break us up, won’t you?” he says to Milo, completely ignoring me. “So you can get your hands on my sloppy seconds?”
I flinch at the phrase, just like I have every other time he’s said something like it.
Fury flashes in his eyes as Tristan glowers at his cousin. And then he punches Milo.
I scream when it happens, covering my mouth with both hands, instinctively. Milo hunches over for a second before righting himself, holding his left cheek in his hand.
I go to him. “Are you okay?”
He winces but nods anyway. “I’ll be fine.”
I spin to Tristan, anger raging inside me. “What is wrong with you?”
Instead of answering me or acknowledging me at all, Tristan looks past me. His eyes are alight with fury as he glowers at Milo.
“It didn’t end up working out with Elena, so why not try with Riley, eh?” he bites. “A bit pathetic that you have to resort to stealing your cousin’s women instead of finding your own, don’t you think?”
My stomach plummets to my feet at the mention of Elena. I flash back to that pool party at Milo’s family’s house in Portugal ... at how his grandmother called me Elena ... at the conversation Milo had with his cousin Rafa ...
“Really, Milo? Again? Is this a pattern with you?”
“Rafa. Stop.”
“Look, man. I only ask because it’s not a normal thing to do. To go after—”
“I didn’t go after anyone.”
I can feel my heartbeat throughout my entire body. “Thrashing” is a better word for it, actually. It feels like cannonballs are rocketing through me.
Tristan finally looks over at me. All I can register is desperation in his eyes. “Riley, listen to me. Milo has been gunning for you since the day he met you. He’s been waiting in the wings like some opportunistic prick, waiting for the right time to swoop in and take you from me. He’s willing to say anything to make you leave me.”
“I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Milo says, his tone hard and pleading all at once.
I glance between them, dazed as I struggle to take in everything Tristan says.
Milo evidently has a pattern. And that’s to go after his cousin’s partners.
A wave of nausea hits, but I cough it back.
Tristan grabs my hand, turning me toward him. “Elena, my uni girlfriend, cheated on me with Milo.”
I open my mouth, but I can’t speak a word. I pull out of Tristan’s hold. When he reaches for me again, I wave him off.
“Don’t,” I bark. He jolts back. So does Milo.
For a long moment I just stare between Tristan and Milo. I know for a fact that Tristan has been cheating on me. There’s no way I’m taking him back, no matter what he says.
But to discover this about Milo is a jolt to my system. I feel like I’ve been electrocuted.
This marks the second time that Milo’s set his sights on his cousin’s romantic partner. My skin crawls. I can’t decide if I want to scream or vomit. God, that’s so creepy and sleazy, so unlike who I thought Milo really was.
He’s been so kind, so caring and considerate. I thought I was getting to know him—the real him. Yeah, he’s no angel. He was a jerk to me when we first met all those years ago. But he apologized. He sounded so sincere. He admitted to me that he’s been the other man in a relationship before. But he was honest with me—at least I thought he was. Until now.
I think of all the early-morning cuddles in bed, how he remembered my favorite flowers, how he helped me through my divorce, how amazing he was with my mom, my brother, my entire family ...
I let my guard down. I let myself start to like him, care about him, fall for him ...
I started to fall in love with him ...
This whole time he’s been lying to me.
He lied and cheated. Just like Tristan.
“Clearly you’ve got a type,” Tristan says through a sneer.
Milo steps into his space. “It’s not like that.”
“You’re so full of shit, Milo. Why don’t you try meeting women on your own instead of waiting around for my scraps?”
Milo shoves Tristan, and he bumps into the refrigerator.
I’m in a haze watching the two of them shove one another, acting like two gorillas pounding their chests as they gear up for a brawl.
I start to feel dizzy and wobble.
Milo spins around to me. “Are you okay?” he asks in a soft voice.
But I don’t answer. I can’t, not when another wave of nausea pummels me.
I glance at the two men staring at me.
Liar. Cheater.
The words bounce around in my head, growing louder by the second.
Liars. Cheaters.
I swallow back the hot bile creeping up my throat.
Liars and cheaters. That’s all I seem to be capable of attracting.
Milo reaches his hand to me, but I jerk away. I dart toward the front door, grabbing my coat along the way. I slip on my boots; then I sprint down Dorset Street as fast as I can.