Days passed, but nothing felt as it was before. The guilt of what had happened between Darren and I followed me home. He didn't deserve what I had done to him. All he was trying to do was help. It wasn't his fault feelings had gotten in the way.
To make matters worse, things between Lawrence and I seemed a bit strained, at least from my end. He assured me everything was fine, but I had a constant sick feeling in my stomach that it wasn't. Something just didn't feel right.
The only normal things I returned to were Alice and my job. She confessed that she had known Lawrence was going to propose, and she couldn't wait to help me start planning the wedding. Oddly, I was all about waiting. Considering that we hadn't officially dated before, I wanted to extend the engagement so that we'd have a chance to feel what it was like in a normal relationship. Lawrence told me that nothing should change between us, that we were dating before without the title attached. Before the engagement though, he had been more like an added bonus to my life than a boyfriend. I had given him free reign, only bringing him in when he wanted to be there. He came and went as he pleased. Contact between us wasn't horribly important. Now that we were engaged, I felt like we should be somehow closer.
When I told Alice about Darren, she was a bit shocked. After all, I had never spoken about him with emotions any stronger than friendship. To be honest, I wasn't sure what my feelings for him were now, but I knew it didn't matter. He was a fling, nothing more.
“I have got to see the guy who was hot enough to break you away from Lawrence. Cause Lawrence is pretty damn hot,” Alice said with a smirk, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me into her bedroom to the computer.
I sighed as I sat on her bed, watching her log on.
“This guy is famous, right? So there should be pictures of him online,” she told me.
“I don't know.” I shrugged. “You know I don't read romance, and the last picture I saw of him publicly was taken a long time ago.”
She pulled up the search engine and typed in his name. Darren Jones brought up nothing but random photos.
“Try Dominick Parker,” I suggested.
She typed the name in. Jackpot. And holy jackpot! There were dozens of images of Darren, both new and old. In suits. In casual attire. With various women. And even two pictures of him shirtless.
“Hot damn!” Alice stared at the screen wide eyed. “Is that him?”
“Mhm.” I nodded with a slight purr.
She scrolled down the page until we'd seen everything there was to see. “Okay, I can totally see why you did it.”
“Alice! That just makes me sound bad.” I scowled.
“Pfft. A woman would be out of their mind to pass up on that hot piece of ass. Shit, he was even hot when he was younger, though admittedly better looking now. Why didn't you two date, again?”
“He's like a brother to me,” I told her dryly.
“Was like a brother to you. Was,” she corrected me. “I'd go all incest up on that shit. How big is his cock?”
“Alice!”
“What? I'm just curious.” Her blue eyes glittered at me innocently.
“Big,” I couldn't help but tell her.
“How big?”
“Really big, alright. Can we just stop talking about this now?”
“Bigger than Lawrence?”
“Oh my God, please Alice.”
“What? I'm living vicariously through you. I might get a lot of guys, but most of them aren't as good-looking as the two you scored with. You should be proud. Not every girl gets to fuck these rich super-model-looking guys.”
“Lawrence and Darren do not look like super models.”
She gave me a sarcastic look, pointing at one of the shirtless pictures of Darren. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Done here.” I rolled my eyes at her as I stood to leave.
“If you don't want him anymore, can I have him?” she called to me.
If I was still in the room with her, I might have smirked. Since she couldn't see my face though, I frowned. The idea of Alice having Darren made jealousy rage through me. It didn't make sense. He didn't belong to me, and I had just left him as I had the first time. Hell, he was probably fucking that Eleanor girl right now, for all I knew. That thought didn't cause pleasant emotions either.
With a sigh, I swallowed my feelings and went on about my business. I needed to forget about him. Lawrence and I would be getting married eventually, though we hadn't settled on a date yet. It was best to put the past behind me.
***
Weeks passed, and while I had mostly gotten over Darren, things still didn't seem right with Lawrence and I. Our relationship had changed, thanks to the engagement, and I was having a difficult time adapting. He had gotten clingier, which I had thought I wanted at first, but the times he'd show up uninvited were just bizarre. Sometimes, he'd randomly drop by my work. Other times, he'd come by the apartment when I had told him I was having a girl's night with Alice. While he assured me that he was just trying to become more a part of my life, I couldn't help but get the feeling that he was actually trying to catch me doing something wrong.
I was cooking dinner one night after work when there was a knock on the door. I sighed as I set the kitchen knife down, wiped my hands on a towel, and went to let Lawrence in, annoyed that it felt like he was spying on me yet again. Would he ever learn to trust me? Probably not for a while. This was just something I was going to have to deal with until his sense of security returned.
I opened the door, and my breath hitched at who I saw on the other side.
“Darren! What are you doing here?” Suddenly, all of those horrible emotions I had managed to suppress came surging back.
“We need to talk,” his voice was serious. I caught him glancing down at the one carat round diamond solitaire engagement ring Lawrence had presented me with the day we had returned home. If he was disappointed to see it on my finger, it didn't show.
“There's nothing to talk about.”
“There's plenty to talk about. Can I come in, or are we going to do this out here?”
I sighed, moving away from the door. “Come in.”
He looked around the apartment as he stepped inside. “So, this is where you live now?”
“Obviously, you know that, or you wouldn't have been able to find me. How did you find me, by the way?” I shut the door and followed him.
“Background check,” he admitted casually. “This is nice. Very . . . feminine. I'm guessing that Larry doesn't live here with you.”
“If you did a background check, then you'd know that.” I scowled at his backside. “And it's Lawrence, not Larry.”
“Whatever.”
“What do you want to talk about? I'm making dinner, and I don't have all day.”
“So, he does live with you.” He turned to me.
“No, he doesn't. But if he did, it wouldn't matter.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“So?”
“I'm not letting you leave me again.” His blue eyes were intense, causing my heart to drum in my chest erratically. This was the last thing I needed.
“We're not doing this.” I shook my head at him. “If you came here to beg me to leave Lawrence for you, then you might as well leave.”
He laughed, catching me off guard.
“What?” I asked irritably.
“You're so fucking full of yourself sometimes. It amuses me.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” my voice was full of offense.
“I didn't come here to sweep you off your feet. Lance can have you, for all I care. I just wanted you to know that you can't cast me aside again.”
His words stung me like a slap. What did he mean? I was so confused.
“We're going to be friends, whether you like it or not,” he told me. “You need to own up to your mistakes and get over them. I know what we did a few weeks ago wasn't right. I seduced you, but I'm not apologizing for it. Judging by the ring on your finger, it looks like you and Lance kissed and made up.”
“Lawrence,” I corrected him again, my scowl deepening.
“Whatever. The point is that I offered you my help and my friendship, and you cast it aside, yet again. You can't keep bringing people into your life and tossing them back out.”
“I've only done that with you.”
“And Krista,” he reminded me, another blow to my heart. When I didn't respond, he continued, “I just rented an apartment in Austin, and I'd like to have friends here. Well, I have a couple already, but more specifically, I'd like for you to be my friend.”
“That's not going to be possible.”
“You know, I spent the vast majority of my childhood letting you get your way. You take, take, take from people. That's what you do. This time, things are going to be my way. It's not like I'm asking you to kick Landon to the curb. Perhaps him and I can even be buddies someday.”
“Is it really that hard for you to remember his name?”
“No. I'm doing this just to piss you off.” He smirked, and I hated him because I wanted him. Already, memories of that night in my room were running through my mind again, our naked bodies crushed together, the passion of his touch, the pleasure rolling through me. Did he even have any idea what he was doing to me?
“I don't think being your friend is a good idea after what happened. It wouldn't be good for my relationship with Lawrence, which is still in recovery.”
“So you told him what happened between us?”
“Yes.”
“And how did he take it?”
“How do you imagine he took it?” I gave him a sarcastic look.
“Well, to be honest, I was kind of hoping he had dumped you.”
“How can you be so hurtful and rude?”
“That's the pot calling the kettle black. I keep forgetting that no one in this world has feelings but you.”
I sighed, “You're not going to let this go, are you?”
“No, I'm not. You will have lunch with me this Saturday, as friends. Bring Lars if it makes you feel better.”
“I work on Saturday.”
“Then we'll have dinner. I'm an author; my schedule is pretty flexible.”
“What if I refuse to come?”
“You don't want to refuse me.” The look he gave me was dark, and I couldn't help but believe him. While I didn't think that Darren would go as far as to physically harm me, I wouldn't put it past him to wreck my life. He seemed like a completely different person now, and that wasn't all a good thing.
“Saturday, at eight o'clock,” I surrendered. “Lawrence and I will be there. Where do you want to go?”
“Somewhere casual. Olive Garden? I remember you liking pasta.”
“Olive Garden will be fine.”
“You better show up,” he warned.
“If Lawrence lets me,” I grumbled.
“If he bitches too much, leave him at home. It's only you I'm interested in anyway.” He waved at me dismissively as he walked towards the door. There was something about how bossy he was being that turned me on. I hated it—hated my stupid body for wanting him.
“I hate you,” I whispered to him as he stepped outside.
“No, you don't,” he replied, disappearing around the corner without even turning back to look at me.
***
Not surprisingly, Lawrence didn't take the news of Darren's visit well.
“We're not going,” he insisted, furrowing his brows at me.
“I don't think he's going to leave me alone if we don't go,” I told him, meeting his gaze with my own serious expression.
“Then get a restraining order against him.” Lawrence walked past me to sit on the sofa. He raked his fingers through his hair, stress apparent on his handsome face.
“I don't think that will be necessary. Perhaps if you speak to him, tell him that you don't want him around me, he'll go away.”
“It should be enough that you don't want him around you.”
“Well, it's not.” I sat beside him, keeping my eyes to the cream-colored carpet.
“Fine,” he sighed. “We'll go. I'll talk to him. But if he doesn't leave you alone after that, you're going to file a restraining order. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I leaned over to hug his arm, kissing him on the shoulder.
And that was the end of conversation on the subject.
The week ticked down like a time bomb. It seemed like every second spent with Lawrence was a tense one. All the progress we had made towards repairing our relationship since the incident in Castroville had been lost. While he wasn't being cruel to me, he was distant. It felt like he was silently blaming me for this meeting with Darren, like I actually wanted it to happen, which I didn't.
***
I was at work on Friday when I got a text from an unknown number. When I went to open it, there was a picture attached. The image that loaded shattered my heart into a million pieces. It was a picture of Lawrence naked in a room with a girl whom I didn't recognize. Beneath the picture, the text said, “A taste of your own medicine.”
It took everything in me to keep composed while I finished up with my client. As soon as she had paid and was out the door, I was on my phone texting the number back, “Who is this?”
“One of Lawrence's girls,” came the reply.
Girls. Was there more than one?
“When was that picture taken?” I asked, trying to keep calm, though inside I was dying. Everything in me wanted to call this woman a stupid lying bitch, but being mean to her wouldn't get me the answers I needed, the answers I could cross-reference with Lawrence when I spoke to him later.
“Ask him and find out,” the mystery texter responded.
Fed up with the riddles, I dialed the number. No one answered. I thought about texting again, but there was nothing left to say.
Surely, there was some explanation for this. A jealous ex-girlfriend. Photoshop. Not for one second did I want to believe that Lawrence had been sleeping with other women. He was so scared of me cheating, it wouldn't make sense for him to do it.
For as much as I wanted to call Lawrence up at work and demand some answers, I knew he wouldn't pick up the phone. He never did unless I sent him a 911 text, and 911 was reserved for life-threatening emergencies. This wasn't life threatening, though it was certainly relationship threatening. Still, it could wait. The only thing I'd do is upset him if I called him now, and I felt like we were already walking on egg shells.
I spent the rest of the day, tortured inside my head, coming up with every scenario and excuse that would explain the picture. Between clients, I'd look at it, though pieces of my heart would chip off with each glance. The girl in the image was pretty, younger than I was. Lawrence didn't look any younger though, which made my heart ache. As much as I wanted to lie to myself, I had a sickening feeling that the photo was recent.
After work, I went home, going about my afternoon chores halfheartedly, numbly. I felt like a zombie, meandering around, trying not to think because I was out of solutions and possibilities. All I could do was wait for the truth.
The clock was my enemy, moving just as slowly as I was. My eyes were on it every few minutes, counting down for Lawrence to get off work. I burned myself making dinner, and it came out absolutely horrible, a reflection of my poor mood.
Finally, ten o'clock rolled around, the time that Lawrence got off work that night. I gave him fifteen minutes to go from the building to his car before I called him. The only reason he wouldn't answer now was if he was with another woman. That thought absolutely destroyed me, but it was a very real one.
He did answer, on the second ring, greeting me with his normal tired-from-work voice, “Hey, babe. What's up?”
“How was your day?” I began casually.
“Good. Just heading home from another long day. How was your day?”
“Different.”
“Different how?”
“I need to talk to you, but I think it would be better if we did it in person.”
His tone instantly changed, and there was fear behind it, though I doubted it had anything to do with the picture, “What about?”
“I don't want to talk about it over the phone.”
“Tara, I'm really tired. Did something happen with that guy again?”
“No. This has nothing to do with him.”
“Can't it wait until tomorrow? I work a morning shift, and I'm absolutely exhausted. I don't know if I can handle a late night chat.”
“It's important.”
“Can you at least give me a clue as to what it's about?”
I thought for a moment. “No. I'll show you when you get here.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “I'll be there soon.”
“Alright.”
“I love you.”
“Okay. Bye.” I hung up before he had a chance to question why I hadn't said I love you in return.
If that picture was recent, it would drastically change my feelings for Lawrence. Already, there was a shift in my emotions from the suspicion. What if he had slept with this girl to get back at me? I would be forced to forgive him, wouldn't I? He had forgiven me for Darren. Was that how this was supposed to work? I didn't know anymore. All I did know was that there was a hole in my chest, and it didn't feel like anything in the world could make it better.
I waited on the sofa, wringing my hands in anticipation. Alice came home before Lawrence arrived, and I politely told her that she should go to her room while him and I talked. Concern filled her face, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions before I spoke to him, and I didn't want her around when he showed up.
“I'll tell you everything after he leaves,” I promised her.
“Are you going to be alright? You don't look okay at all.”
“I'll be fine.”
“Alright. Well, if you need me to come out and kick his ass, I will.”
“I'll let you know if I do,” I laughed weakly.
Five minutes later, Lawrence knocked on the door. I didn't even bother hiding the misery on my face when I let him in. He met me with a look of concern, equal to what I had seen on Alice's face, as if what was wrong with me was a mystery to all.
“What happened?” he asked, stepping forward and grabbing me by the shoulders.
I pulled away from him, walking towards the coffee table to pick up my phone. I sat down and flipped to the text while he stood over me, watching me. Then I handed it up to him. He sighed when he saw it, his shoulder slumping.
“I can explain,” he began.
“Please do.” I fought back the torrential flood of tears threatening to let loose at any moment.
Lawrence carefully sat on the sofa beside me, still gazing down at my phone. “This was the old me.”
I waited for him to say something else, but when he didn't, I asked, “What do you mean the old you?”
“The me before we were engaged.” His words were gentle, but they sliced right through me.
“So, the picture is recent?”
“It's a few months old.”
The hole in my chest felt like it expanded several inches in an instant. This woman happened before Darren. No wonder he hadn't gotten mad at me.
“Who is she?”
“A nurse at the hospital.”
“So, you see her all the time?”
“At work.”
I nodded, though I didn't know why. Perhaps in understanding. Maybe as a coping mechanism. Perhaps to keep from screaming.
“Are you and her still?” I asked, avoiding his eyes.
“No. We stopped messing around when I decided to propose to you.”
“Wow. That wasn't very long ago.”
“Listen, I know you're upset, but that was in the past. We can move on from this.”
“I suppose we have to. I mean, you let me get away with . . . Darren. I should forgive you too. That's the right thing to do, isn't it?”
He let out a short laugh, “There's nothing to forgive, Tara. We weren't committed before then.”
I winced internally, feeling like he had just filled the hole in my chest full of salt. He made it sound like I hadn't meant as much to him before the engagement. Our entire relationship up to that point seemed like a sham. Had he ever taken it seriously at all?
“How long had you been messing around with her?”
“Do you really want to know?” He gave me a quizzical look. “I figured we had a don't ask, don't tell, out of sight, out of mind policy when it came to messing around with other people.”
“I didn't even know that policy existed.” I tried to keep my anger at bay. He seemed so casual about it.
“Oh, well, I figured you understood, since we weren't committed before.”
“Wait. How many other girls were there?”
“Do you really want to know?” he asked again, though this time there was something smug about his expression.
“Do I want to know? No. Do I feel like I need to know? Yes.”
“Why? What does it matter? That's behind us now.”
“It matters to me. Just tell me, okay.”
“You sound like you're starting to get pissed. I think I'd rather not.”
“Of course I'm starting to get pissed. All this time, I thought we were exclusive. I know you didn't want the full-on commitment, but I honestly didn't think you were sleeping with other people.”
“Really?” Now he seemed amused, which was only pissing me off more.
“Yeah, really.”
“But you slept with that Darren guy.”
“He was the only guy I've slept with since I've been seeing you.”
“Well, that makes me feel like kind of an ass then.” He straightened himself, staring forward in thought.
“So, tell me. How many women since me?”
“You really don't want to know.”
“I really do. Before, I felt like I needed to know. Now, I want to know.”
“You really don't. It doesn't matter.”
“It does matter. Now tell me, because things are only going to be worse if you don't.”
“I doubt that.” He cowered a bit.
“Two?”
“No.”
“Five?”
“More.”
“Ten?”
“We really don't need to do this, Tara.”
“Fucking tell me, Lawrence,” my anger flared. Inside, I felt like I was about to explode. More than ten women, are you fucking serious.
“More than you want to know, I'll just put it that way.”
“More than a dozen then?”
“Closer to thirty.”
“Dear God, Lawrence!” I stood, unable to handle being next to him anymore. “Thirty women in four years. Are you fucking kidding me? And you were fucking me too the entire time? Didn't you worry about getting STDs and passing them on to me.”
“Tara.” He looked up at my seriously. “I'm a doctor. I'm pretty careful.”
“Thirty women. Jesus! Who were they all?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes. You're going to answer every fucking question I have. If you want to marry me, I think I deserve some fucking honestly.”
He sighed, “Patients, nurses, interns, a girl I met at the coffee shop. Do I need to go on?”
“Fuck. Thirty girls in four years. You've pretty much been fucking other people throughout our entire relationship. And I've been sitting here, stupidly oblivious to it.” I stared at the floor in complete disbelief.
“Tara. None of them meant anything to me. Not like you do.”
“I don't see how I can mean anything to you. I mean, if you loved me, you wouldn't have done that to me. You were cheated on by your ex-wife. Didn't you ever stop to think about what this would do to me when I found out?”
“I never planned to fall in love with you.” He shook his head, finding the place on the floor that I was looking at, as if that would connect us in some way. “You were just another girl to me when we first met. Back then, I took care of my loneliness by filling my sexual needs. Even when we had been together for a few months, I thought I would eventually get bored with you, or that you would disappear, and that would be the end of it. But you didn't disappear, and I didn't get bored with you. I liked having you around. You're smart, funny, sexy, understanding. You gave me freedoms that no other woman ever had. You never nagged me. You let me have my space. You never questioned where I was going or what I was doing. I loved that about you, and so I kept you around.
“I'm not going to lie, I loved the way things were. I wanted to keep our relationship the way it was forever. I tried to keep it the way it was, for as long as I could, but then I started seeing a change in you. While you never asked for it, I could tell you wanted more. Knowing that started to make me afraid that I would lose you. I haven't been afraid of losing someone for a very long time.
“I tried to push back those feelings, kept telling myself that marriage wasn't right for me. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how crushed I would be if you left me. I realized that I was in love with you.” He sighed, “I probably should have stopped when I realized that, but I honestly didn't know if you would accept my proposal. Our relationship hasn't exactly been conventional, by any means.
“I tried to propose to you that night you found out your parents died, but that obviously fell through. And then you went to Castroville,” his voice stiffened, and I knew he was thinking about what he found when he got there.
“When I saw you with . . . him, I realized the full weight of my feelings. I didn't ever want to see you with another man again. And I knew that I had to change my ways. I made a commitment right then to change my ways. I'll never want another woman again. Only you.” Lawrence looked up at me.
I could only assume his words were meant to make me swoon, but all I felt was coldness. My shattered heart had chipped away into thirty different pieces. There were holes inside of me that no words could fill. I felt used, betrayed, filthy. Was this really love—the life we had led together up to this point, using people like tissues until we figured out we were right for each other? It couldn't be. This was something else. Something vile and wrong. I wanted no part of it.
I twisted the engagement ring off my finger and tossed it at his feet. “Get out.”
“Tara,” his voice was pleading.
“Get out,” I said it again, a bit louder this time.
“Come on. We can work through this.”
“Get out!” I screamed, pointing at the door.
He sighed, picking up the ring and standing. “I know this is hard to digest right now, which is why I didn't really want to discuss it. I love you though. Please, think about it. I'll be waiting for your phone call when you're ready to talk again.”
“There's nothing to talk about,” I grumbled as I led him to the door, slamming it behind him.
I never wanted to see him again. Not ever.