The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,25
such a good liar that he has Andrew convinced as well? When Sadie announced her pregnancy, I nearly keeled over. She seems happy, but can it last after how Nathan betrayed her? “Cheating often comes with a degree of brainwashing, although I don’t typically see it carry over to family members—”
“Wrong,” Andrew repeats. “It’s not my story to tell, but sometimes, things aren’t what they seem, Amelia.”
I let his words settle in. Up until now, I was confident I had Sadie’s situation nailed. That I knew all the details of all my friends’ relationships, whether or not they’d been divulged to me. Jennifer’s boyfriend went to Vegas for a weekend to attend a bachelor party? Cheater. Suzanne found an ink-smudged napkin in her husband’s briefcase? Adulterer. That’s just how it is. That’s life, especially in this city. The fact that I might be wrong makes me curious about the truth behind Nathan and Sadie.
“So that’s why you don’t date,” Andrew states. “Ex-husband was a cheater.”
It sounds like a limerick:
Amelia’s husband was a cheater,
A dirty, dirty pussy eater.
Between someone else’s legs he fell,
And several lies he did tell,
Then came home to his wife, and without telling her why, apologized with a bag from Chanel.
“When someone cheats on you, it—it puts all these ideas in your head, you know?”
“Like what?” he asks.
“We really don’t have to talk about this.”
“I want to. What ideas does it put in your head?”
I could ask why he cares or, if I really wanted, shut down the conversation. Andrew actually seems interested in what I have to say, though. When I talk about this with friends, it sometimes becomes a pissing contest. Who was hurt worst? Which of our ex-husband’s girlfriends is the youngest, prettiest, thinnest? How many times did we just miss catching them together? We’re making ourselves feel worse by pretending to help each other. I don’t know if they know it, but I do, and yet, I still participate.
Andrew’s concern might not be genuine, but it’s nice to talk to a man who doesn’t seem to blame me for Reggie’s affair. “Why wasn’t I enough?” I ask. “That’s the one my therapist, Dianne, likes to focus on, but what I can’t stop wondering is . . . if he was able to cheat on me for that long, what else did I miss? What am I still missing that’s right in front of me? He made me feel crazy for my suspicions, and now I . . .”
“And now?” he prompts.
“I don’t trust myself anymore.” It’s the first time I admit it outside of Dianne’s office. “I don’t trust my judgment. That’s what he took away. My faith in others and in myself.”
Andrew rakes some hair back from my face. “I get it,” he says against my temple. “I think it’s a shame, but I get it.”
“Did you have a similar experience when your ex left?”
“Yeah.”
I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t.
“Is he with her now?” he asks.
My answering laugh is forced. “I don’t know. He came crawling back two weeks after I kicked him out, claiming he’d made a mistake. Slamming the door in his face was almost worth all the suffering.”
“And that was the last time you spoke to him?”
“Unfortunately not. He stops by sometimes. Says they’re not together, but I can’t believe a word he says about anything. Most of our interaction lately is through our lawyers.”
“He comes by here?”
“It’s his apartment, but I don’t let him in.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” I ask, sensing his hmm is more than just a hmm.
“Have you thought about moving out?”
“And give him the satisfaction?” I shake my head. “He loves this place—it was his first seven-figure purchase. But he claimed to love me too.”
“Don’t you want to be free of him?”
“Of course. It’s more complicated than that, though. He’s an investor in avec. My PR firm. He dumped a large sum into it. I thought it was a blessing at the time, but now I know it was a power play to control me.”
“Control you how?”
“He owns a larger share than I do.”
“Shit,” Andrew mutters. “That’s not good.”
“I was financially able to buy him out a while ago, but he always made up excuses to deny me. Then came the divorce, and he continues to fight me on it. Until he agrees to give up avec, I won’t leave.”
“Why do you like it here so much?”
“I don’t,” I say. “This isn’t the neighborhood I’d choose, and this place has a lot of bad memories. But