was available. He made me feel selfish, like I was a terrible wife. He made me feel like I somehow tricked him into starting a family with me.”
I snorted and rolled myself over on the bed. I would leave black streaks from my eye makeup on the pristine white comforter, but I didn’t care. I’d pay for damages when I sobered up.
“It wasn’t until he could no longer hide the affair that I realized the reason he didn’t want me to show up unannounced was because he was in Paris with his mistress. If I hadn’t been so focused on the baby, I might’ve noticed that every single time my stylist asked for time off, it coincided with Erik going out of town for work.” I groaned and kicked my feet up and down like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “She wasn’t even the first. She just happened to be the only one who stuck with him after the press trashed him. I’m an idiot. Who cries over such a jerk? I should be sad for his new wife, not myself.” Or maybe I was doubly sad for both of us, which was why I couldn’t control myself.
I wasn’t sure if Salinger was even still in the room. I was so caught up in my spiraling emotional breakdown that I would’ve missed the door opening and closing. He hadn’t said a word during my tangent, and the room suddenly felt too quiet.
“Turn over.” His deep voice gave the command quietly. I was surprised at the rush of relief I felt pour through me when I realized I wasn’t alone. I flipped to my back and went to look over at him, but before I could, a cold, damp cloth covered my eyes. “They’re your tears, Maren. They don’t belong to him. You go right ahead and cry because your heart is hurting. Don’t waste a minute on the person responsible for hurting it. Don’t let him have that kind of influence over you anymore.”
I felt something cold hit my hand and reflexively wrapped my fingers around the chilly bottle of water.
“Why do you sound so smart?” I asked the question with a bit of begrudging respect.
“I’ve made a lot of people cry in the past, but their tears didn’t matter to me at all. Some I hurt over and over again, and it was never the tears of others that managed to make a difference. It was the hurt I felt inside when I realized how badly I treated the people who cared about me that finally got to me. When I got sober, I felt that pain deep in my gut every single day. It was like being stabbed a hundred times. The tears were because the remorse over my actions hurt, not because I had to grieve the loss of the terrible guy who let that poison fester. He doesn’t deserve a single tear, and no one was sad to see him go. I gave the people who mattered an apology when I was able. I think that went a lot further than tears.”
I blew out a ragged sigh and pulled the washcloth off my face. Salinger was perched on the end of the massive bed, looking even more colorful than normal in the predominantly white room.
“I dunno. I think I might’ve liked to see you cry rather than accept your apology.” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t imagine those dark eyes of his all shiny and wet with tears. They looked too fierce.
Salinger chuckled and patted the comforter. “Maybe one day you will. Why don’t you take a little nap, and when you get up, order some room service? Hang out here for the rest of the day until you pull yourself together. You can cry as much as you need to and no one will know. When you feel better, give me a call, and we can get a coffee or something together. We can go somewhere people are bound to notice. We can bury your ex under an avalanche of gossip about us dating. From what you told me, the best revenge is taking all the attention away that he’s working so hard to focus on himself. I’m gonna get out of here. Maybe call your agent when you get a chance. She’s hella worried about you.”
With dexterity that surprised me since the world went off-kilter as soon as I moved, I launched myself at Salinger, sinking my fingers into one muscular forearm