IRL: In Real Life (After Oscar, #1)(76)

I told you about Mark’s betrayal and how it caused various kinds of fallout in my business and in my family. What I didn’t tell you was that in addition to being best friends in college and business school, Mark and I were also lovers. I worshipped the ground he walked on and thought the two of us would be together forever. He wasn’t out, and keeping our relationship secret from my friends and family was tough, but I thought at the time he was worth it.

When he and his family came to my family’s house for that Christmas celebration, I finally thought he was going to come out to everyone, that our relationship would be part of the excitement. Instead, he flirted with my sister. At first, I thought it was a defense mechanism, some way of proving his heterosexuality. I gave up on him coming out after that. But then it became clear. The flirting was real.

He dropped me for Win.

The rest of it you know. But now you can see why his betrayal hit me so hard. And why I was so quick to trust him over my sister. I was in love with him. Even then. Until he put my entire family’s livelihood in jeopardy and betrayed his marriage to my sister, I still loved him. When he left me for Win, I thought it was because he simply loved her more—that she was somehow more perfect for him. In a way, I was flattered. I thought it was his way of having me but just the socially acceptable version.

After all of that, it was impossible to even consider putting my heart back out there again.

Until you.

Please take care of yourself and have a safe trip to Chicago.

Yours,

Wells/Trace



My hands were shaking by the time I finished reading it. The mail had been delivered right as we’d loaded up in the car for the drive to the airport. I’d shoved the letter in my backpack and finally pulled it out once we were settled on the small plane.

Mom snoozed next to me in a fully reclined seat with one of her favorite blankets wrapped around her. Her hair was clean and neatly styled from an early-morning visit to her favorite stylist, something she’d insisted on doing before leaving town.

I was thankful she was asleep since I couldn’t keep the tears from leaking out of my damned eyes. I fucking hated Wells for telling me that story. My heart was too broken before learning about his past, and now it was utterly shattered. That poor man. No wonder he was such a stoic, cold asshole. He was terrified.

I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand without letting go of the letter and caught a whiff of Wells’s expensive cologne on the paper. It was most likely all in my head, but it made something tighten even harder in my gut.

I missed him so fucking much. Which was insane. Why wasn’t this any easier by now? I’d hardly known the guy a few days. I needed my heart back. It was his—he owned the fucking thing and had it with him in a swanky high-rise in Manhattan. And without it, my chest was a caved in shell.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Mom asked in a sleepy voice. “Those tears better not be for me. I’m feeling strong like Serena Williams. If only my tennis game was just as good.”

I shook my head from side to side, afraid if I spoke, it would sound like a gasping sob.

She turned in her seat until she was fully facing me. Her eyes narrowed. “Hells bells. It’s a boy.”

I shook my head again and looked away from her.

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” she muttered, reaching for the little travel pack of tissues she always kept in a pocket. “Here.”

I took a couple out and did triage on my face without looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered after a few moments.

Her fingers sifted through my hair. “Honey, you can’t help how you feel. No reason to be sorry. If anything, I’m sorry for being sick when you need me.”

The feel of her hand in my hair was comforting. I slouched down in my seat and closed my eyes, remembering all the times she’d rubbed my head like that when I was little.

“Is it That Asshole?” she asked. The smile in her voice alerted me that she wouldn’t judge me so much if it was.

I nodded. “I l-l-like him. A lot.”

She snorted softly. “I’m not sure ‘like’ was the word your mouth was tripping over,” she teased. “What is holding you back?”

I blew a breath out between pursed lips, ignoring her comment about the l-word. After thinking through what I wanted to say, I finally opened my eyes and met hers. “He lied to me about something… well, he omitted something really damned important.”

“Is he married?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Oh shit, HIV? Is he on PrEP? Did you two use—”

“Mother. God. It’s not anything having to do with his health. Or mine.”

“Did he keep this thing from you out of malice?”

I didn’t even hesitate before shaking my head. “No. I’m pretty sure it was more out of fear.”

“Fear of what? Fear of losing you? Of disappointing you?”

“Both. Of making things even more complicated than they already were.”

“Why were things complicated?”

I widened my eyes at her as if that would be enough for her to understand. “Mom, the deal. The negotiation. The fact I arrived there thinking he was That Asshole. Complicated.”

“The deal is over. You don’t think he’s an asshole anymore. What’s complicated now?”