The Man I Thought I Loved (Two-Faced #2) - E. L. Todd Page 0,4
I didn’t listen. It’s not about the money, but the way I disregarded my family’s wishes, the way I assumed I knew everything…when I knew nothing at all.” He shifted his gaze for the first time, looking toward his desk and the window behind it. With those dark eyes and unbelievable good looks, he could make anyone forgive him for everything. “Safe to say, I’m pretty fucked up from it.” He turned back to me. “After my divorce, I went back to the playboy, manwhore bullshit. But I couldn’t do it anymore. It’s the same shit just on a different night. It’s the same girl but with a different face. Even though my marriage was a sham, there were aspects I liked, and having a real connection to someone is far more fulfilling than casual sex. I didn’t expect to find someone I liked anytime soon…but then I met you.” He focused his stare on my face, those brown eyes shining with sincerity. “It would be easy to argue that pretending to be something I’m not is despicable, staging an apartment to make it seem like I live there is disgusting. But I’m tired of my billionaire title. People say money doesn’t matter, but it matters to everyone. It skews all my relationships, and I’m tired of it. I’m sorry I hurt you, but I don’t regret what I did—because I found you.”
I had been understanding of his story until that point. “You don’t regret lying to me?”
He dropped his elbow from the armrest and gripped his calf instead. “Think about it. What would have happened if I’d told you the truth right off the bat?”
“I don’t know because it didn’t happen.”
“Our relationship would have played out completely differently, and you know it. You either would have wanted me more because of my money or wanted me less. You can sit there and say money doesn’t matter to you, but if my wealth is a turn-off to you, then it does matter. You never would have given me a real chance.”
“And that would be for me to decide. I probably wouldn’t have been interested since I deal with rich suits all the time and they think they’re entitled to do whatever they want—which is exactly what you did.” Because the badge was around my neck and I was on the clock, I could speak in a normal voice, even though we were alone. I remained professional and calm, like the interview was actually taking place.
His eyes narrowed on my face. “Not the same thing at all.”
“I disagree.” I didn’t take a single note because none of this would go in the article anyway.
He held my gaze for a long time, comfortable in the silence, unaffected by the intensity coming from both of us as invisible balls of energy. “You were cold and distant when we met, treating me like an object instead of a person, and I was understanding when you told me about your divorce. I get it. I’d appreciate the same understanding now, in light of what I told you.”
“Dax, if you’d sat me down at dinner and told me all this yourself, I would have been understanding. I’m not unreasonable. But you let it go on for so long and then let me find out in the worst way possible.”
With his eyes locked on mine, he inhaled a deep breath.
“I’m sorry about Rose. I’m sorry someone used you like that. It’s disgusting. Since you knew what happened to me, you would know that I would understand the pain, the humiliation. But you didn’t confide in me. Instead, you continued to deceive me. When were you going to tell me?”
“When I took you to the dinner we had planned.”
“You say that, but who knows? You wanted to start screwing without condoms while keeping me in the dark.”
He closed his eyes for a second. “I got carried away because every single time we’re together, it’s fucking fire. And then you wanted to screw in the alleyway, which is already hot enough, and you wanted to ditch the protection because I didn’t have any. You remember what I said? I said no. Because I knew I had to tell you first. Let’s not forget that night.”
He did deny me, and now I knew why. “I’m not sure what you want from me, Dax.”
His body stilled at my words, and his eyes narrowed a little farther, like my statement was genuinely surprising. “You.”