Chapter 29 - Max
I close my fists to stop my hands from shaking. My whole body is stiff with tension. Naomi’s eyes are wide. Her eyebrows draw together as she takes a step towards me.
“Don’t—” I almost yell. I stick my hand out in front of me and Naomi stops. I take a deep, trembling breath. “Stay right there.”
“What’s going on, Max?”
“Oh, stop pretending,” I spit. “I know everything.” The burning in my chest hasn’t stopped since I read her file. The whole afternoon, I’ve gone over it, and over it, and over it, but I still can hardly believe that she’s lied to me like this.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Stop playing dumb!” The words rip my throat apart. My nails dig in to my palms so hard that I wonder if they might bleed. I watch Naomi’s throat move as she swallows. She’s clutching her purse close to her body, her green eyes staring at me in shock.
I take a deep breath.
“My parents hired a private investigator.”
Her eyes widen some more. I don’t know if it’s genuine shock, or fear of being found out, or just another act on her part.
“Yeah,” I spit. “And he found out some very interesting things.”
“Like what?” Her voice is small, and her knuckles are white where they clutch her purse strap.
“Still not going to admit it, hey?”
“Max, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her voice is gentle, and her eyes fill with concern. “This morning—”
“This morning means nothing,” I say, turning my head away from her. It hurts to look at her, to hear her. I don’t want to get close enough to smell the sweet scent that clings to her. I lean my palms on the kitchen counter as I drag another long breath into my lungs.
When she says nothing, I turn to look at her. Her lip is trembling, and her eyes are filling with tears. My heart shatters, and black anger fills up the void where my heart used to be.
Still, still she denies it!
I scoff, shaking my head.
“I found out about your father, Naomi. The gig is up.”
Naomi’s jaw drops. A tear spills out of her eye and she takes a step forward before stopping herself. When she speaks, her voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper.
“My father? You found out—what did you find out?”
Her breath is short and her eyes are desperate. I laugh bitterly, shaking my head.
“Just stop, Naomi. Look, at least this gave us an excuse to end this stupid fake engagement. Right on time, too.”
She makes a strangled noise and takes a trembling breath.
“What did you find out?” She whispers. “Who is my father?”
Doubt pierces my chest at the desperation in her words. I thought she would deny everything, that she would say she hadn’t nothing to do with her father—but to deny knowing him entirely?
Tears are streaming down her face and she takes another step towards me.
“Please, Max.” Her voice is stronger. “Please. Who is he? Just give me a name.”
Doubt and love battle against the anger and betrayal that have filled my chest. Watching her crying makes my entire body ache. Knowing that she betrayed me, lied to me—is probably still lying to me—that’s a dagger straight through my heart.
I snarl. “Cut the bullshit, Naomi. You know your father was selling his company to mine, and he wanted to keep control of it, so he set you onto me. This whole thing—it was all an act. You were just a pawn in this business deal, and you know it.”
“‘Set me onto you’?” She says, laughing as she cries. “Are you fucking kidding me? This engagement was your idea.”
She shakes her head, moving her hand to her chest and opening her mouth. Her other hand flies to her lips, and she stares at the ground.
“I don’t know how you did it, but you did.”
Tears drop from her chin onto the carpet until she looks at me again.
“I never met my father. My mother is an artist. I am a physical therapist. I used the money you gave me to pay for her chemotherapy. If she needs to have a mastectomy, I’ll pay for that too. That’s where the rest of the money will go. If not, I’ll use it to pay off the sixty thousand dollars in student debt I have. Did your fucking private investigator find out about that?”
“Oh, don’t play the cancer card, Naomi.”
Her face twists. “The ‘cancer card’? Listen to yourself, Max.” She shakes her head. “Or maybe I should have known. I should have known that it was too good to be true. I should have known that the stories about you were based on fact. Maybe the tabloids were right about you.”
She stands up straighter, wiping her cheeks with her palms. Her lower lip is still trembling, but she shakes her head from side to side. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment and then staring at me with those sharp, green eyes that I thought I loved.
“What’s his name, Max? What’s my father’s name?”
“Get out of my house. Your stuff is in the bag,” I say, waving to the black garbage bag I filled with her things. It was the first thing I did when I got home, when the anger was fresh and raw. She glances at the bag and then back at me.
“Please, Max. Tell me.” Her face crumples again and it feels like the a twist of dagger in my heart. Alarm bells ring in my head. It seems so real. She really wants to know his name.
But if I answer, if I tell her his name, isn’t that admitting that I believe her? She already knows her father’s name! She’s been acting at her father’s request all this time!
The only reason that Naomi and I are in this mess is because somehow—I’m not sure how, but somehow, she and her father planned it. He knew that once my parents acquired his company, he would lose everything he worked for. He found out that I’d be the director of the new division, and he didn’t want to let it go.
The acquisition isn’t as amicable as it seemed at the golf center. I can still remember the way Jerry’s eyes flashed when he shook my hand. I thought the chill that went down my spine was just because my father was forcing me to get married.
Naomi is still staring at me, and a thought enters my head uninvited: maybe I’m remembering things wrong. Maybe I’m making up that whole chill down my spine. Maybe her father knew I’d be in charge, and he was just sizing me up. Like all my father’s business associates do.
I’m frozen. I’m stuck. If I agree with Naomi, I admit that I was wrong.
I’m not ready to do that. I don’t trust her—it’s too confusing. It’s too much of a coincidence.
But if I don’t agree with her, then she leaves forever. Whatever we had together is done.
My lips press together and I turn away from her. What we had wasn’t real. It was all fake. It was all some ploy to play me and my father, and I don’t owe anything to her. I walk towards the big glass wall at the other end of the apartment, turning my back on Naomi. I cross my arms over my chest and grind my teeth together.
She sniffles, and then a plastic bag rustles. It’s not until I hear the door close that I glance over my shoulder.
She’s gone.
I sink down onto the couch and rub my hands over my face.
It’s over.