Game Changer by Kelly Jamieson Page 0,75
“I know you weren’t with Grace or your other friends.”
“No. It doesn’t matter who I was with or where I was. I just wanted to get away from Chicago for a while.”
Our lunches arrive and we stop talking for a few minutes.
Waiting for the waitress to refill our cups and leave, I pick up my knife and fork. When she’s gone, I ask, “Why wasn’t I enough for you?”
I hate asking this. It’s the question I asked myself over and over again since the day I found out he cheated on me. I hate sounding so pathetic, but I still want to know.
He shakes his head. “Molly.”
“No, really. I want to know.”
“It’s not that. Look, I haven’t been in that many relationships. I didn’t think it was that big a deal.”
I blink. I still haven’t cut into my eggs bennie. “What? Not that big a deal? Cheating?”
“You went out with other guys all the time.”
My eyes fly open and my fork clatters to the table. “What? I did not!”
“Well, you went out with Jax. All those trivia nights. You’re saying nothing ever happened between you two? Or other guys you met?”
My jaw hangs loosely. “Are you kidding me?”
He waits.
“Nothing ever happened! I never cheated on you. That’s crazy. Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs and doesn’t meet my eyes. “Like I said, I kind of thought maybe fidelity was…flexible.”
“Oh my God.” I didn’t think it was a problem going out with a friend; I certainly didn’t believe that fidelity was flexible. I’m trying to understand, but it’s hard for me. Cheating is a hard limit for me. Isn’t it for most people? Maybe not. “You should have told me,” I whisper. “If only you’d told me.”
“Yeah. I guess I should have. I don’t think I’m, uh, mature enough for marriage.”
Clearly not.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I still don’t understand why I did it. I wanted something…” He pauses. “I don’t even know what I wanted. But it wasn’t about you, Molly.” His tone is softer. “I don’t want you to think that. It was never about you. It was me, going through some stuff, looking for something.”
Huh. I appreciate him saying it. But the thing is…I already know that. I figured it out for myself, maybe sometime while I was lying around the pool in California, or while I was pretending that everything was fine while I raged inside. Or while Jax was looking at me like I was precious, laughing at my jokes, and taking care of me like I mattered. This whole experience may have kicked my confidence in the teeth, but in the end…I’m okay. I’m really okay.
“I wish you’d talked to me.” I try to eat some of my lunch, but once again I’ve lost my appetite.
“I’m sorry.”
“You were pissed about the wedding.”
He frowns. “Yeah. Jesus, Molly. That was humiliating.”
“You deserved it,” I say calmly.
He makes a rough noise and I don’t know if he’s disgusted or agreeing with me. Or both.
I ask how his parents are doing. We talk about what he did at home, and how he’s been skating with some of the guys who are back in town.
“Who’s here?” I ask casually.
“Well, Duper and Army, of course. Jax, Bomber, Benny.”
I nod. I feel a piercing little pain in my heart. Jax is in town. I haven’t heard from him since I left the lake. Even though I texted him when I was back in Chicago to let him know I made it safe and sound.
Steve insists on paying for lunch. Maybe he has a guilty conscience. Even though he thought fidelity was “flexible.” Jesus.
We part outside the diner on the sidewalk. It’s a sultry mid-August day, overcast, hot and windy. I eye Steve uncertainly. “Well. Thanks for lunch.”
“You’re welcome. Molly.” He opens his arms for a hug.
I move into them. It feels…okay. Like hugging a friend. I don’t get that close, and then I step back. “Bye.”
His mouth tips down at the corners. “I really blew it with you.”
“I don’t think it was meant to be. For us.”
“No?” He eyes me, then nods. “Maybe so.”
Well, it would have been gratifying if he’d been all broken up and fell down on his knees and groveled for me to take him back. But I guess it’s good that we’re on the same page and again, another sign that things worked out for the best.
I watch him walk away, that big frame and long-legged stride so familiar to me. My bottom