The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,95
infidelity isn’t about romance. Cheaters are selfish, self-indulgent—”
As she talks, I glance at the same spot on the ground she’s staring at. This is why she’s so upset? Because he’s with someone else? I take a deep breath and try not to read into it. As my anger settles, regret replaces it. Regret that I didn’t knock him out cold. Regret that I almost lost my temper. Back in the day, hotheaded reactions were par for the course. But I have too much at stake to fly off the handle now. “Amelia.”
She looks up as if she’d forgotten I was there. “I’m sorry.” She absentmindedly dabs at her eyeliner. “Whenever something is going right for me, he ruins it. It’s like he has a sixth sense.”
“He’s just trying to get under your skin any way he can. He might not even be with her, he’s just using it to get you to react.”
She closes her eyes and nods. “No, I know. You’re right. Still—”
“You should be more upset about the way he spoke to you.”
She puts her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and finally looks up again. “Yeah. He gets like that when he’s hurt or embarrassed. He’s proud.”
“Proud or not, that’s inexcusable.”
“I know. I’m making excuses again.”
“Again?”
She shakes her head. “When I started therapy, I would make excuses for him to Dianne. I thought we’d worked past it, though.”
“Maybe it’s always a work in progress,” I offer, trying to be helpful. I’ve never been much for excuses—making or accepting them. Try as I might, though, I’m not sure I’ll ever understand the power he has over her. How he managed to get her into this state within minutes, or how she can’t see through his words. What I do understand, though, is Reggie. Now that Amelia has opened up to me, and now that I’ve met him, I have him pegged. Power. He wielded it over her, and he feels it slipping away. He’s an insecure man who works in one of the most powerful industries in the world in one of the most powerful cities in the world—and it’s a dangerous combination. Power, control, influence. He gets them through sex, money, and love, and he gets those through manipulation, coercion, intimidation. The pieces go together to complete a puzzle. If I can figure him out so quickly, why can’t Amelia?
I run through the conversation as best I can. Maybe if I show her the idiotic tools of his manipulation, she’ll understand and calm down. Money—check. He said he had lots of it, and implied any sane woman would want a piece of it. Love—check. Virginia has his love, and it’s better than Amelia’s ever was. Sex—check. He diminished my relationship with her. I’m torn between two different instincts—one to protect Amelia from Reggie, the other to protect Bell by staying levelheaded.
“I hope he and I don’t cross paths again anytime soon,” I say, “not for his sake but for mine. I can’t afford to lose my temper.”
“I understand.” She nods slowly, dazed. “I’m sorry you even had to meet him.”
“What was he doing here? What does he want?”
“One minute he wants me, but then he brags about being happy with her.” She’s no longer looking at me, but off to the side, as if addressing someone who isn’t there. “I think you’re right—I doubt they’re back together, but in the moment, when he’s saying those things, I’m there again. I’m back in my bedroom watching them go at it for a full ten seconds before I start screaming.”
I watch her closely, my teeth clenched. I’m not sure I wouldn’t have killed another man in my bed. “He knows how to get to you.”
She nods. “Whatever will hurt the most, that’s what he says. And it does. It’s not like I want him back, but when he rubs it in like that . . .”
“I get it. You loved him.” I remember all the nights I’d lie in bed, cursing Shana. I never wanted to see her face again—and I missed the way she fit in my arms. The little snort she made when she laughed too hard. “That love doesn’t just go away overnight, unfortunately.”
She swallows, and we exchange more than a simple look. I study her, and she does the same to me. Here we are on the precipice of something new, and neither of us knows what’ll happen. I’m not even sure we know enough about our own feelings yet, much less each