Unfinished Ex (Calloway Brothers, #2)(38)

She sniffs. “Can I ask why you did it?”

I feel like the scum of the earth when I hear her voice crack. I know she’s holding back tears.

Returning to the couch, I sit, crossing my foot over my knee to rub my sore ankle. “Truth? I was jealous.”

“Jealous of whom?”

“Not who—what. Your aspirations. Your drive. I’m a high school teacher. I love my job, but really, if I’m being honest, it’s not like I set the bar for career aspirations. But you—you had passion.

You wanted to make a difference.”

“You’re a teacher. You make a difference, Jaxon. Way more than I ever could.”

“I appreciate that. But I’ll never change the world. Not in the way that you want to with your goals of earlier warning systems and better forecasting. I had my job. I was comfortable in my life. I was ready to concentrate on us and starting a family. I was way ahead of where you were, and we became distant. I missed the closeness we had in college and the first year after. I missed you. You worked long hours at your internship, and I just…” I scrub a hand across my jaw. “I became some bitter version of myself.”

She gets off the floor and sits on the opposite end of the couch, picking at the fabric like she always did when we fought—which was hardly ever. “Who was she? Do I know her?” Her hands steeple over her mouth. “Oh my gosh, was she at the reunion?”

“It’s no one.”

“You don’t want to tell me. I get it. I probably don’t deserve to know after everything.”

I look away, not wanting to see how hurt she is. Because I know what she’s feeling. I felt it myself two years ago when she dropped the very same bomb on me. Except her bomb wasn’t real.

Mine still haunts me to this very day. What I don’t understand is why she seems to care so much after all this time. “Her name was Monica. She was at a bar in the city my brothers and I used to go to after Nighthawks games.”

“Tag and Cooper knew?”

I shake my head. “Nobody did. Not a single, solitary soul. I could barely live with myself. So I pulled away. Don’t you see? I drove the wedge between us, not you. Not your job. It was my fault.”

“Did you see her again?”

“No. It was just the one time. And it was only a kiss, I didn’t let it—”

“Wait, kiss?” she says in surprise. “You didn’t sleep with her?”

“No. I didn’t. But kissing is still cheating, Nic. And that makes me a goddamn bastard.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“You really want to hear the play-by-play of me ruining our marriage?”

She swallows hard. “You didn’t ruin it, Jaxon. Believe me, it was a mutual effort. And, yes, I need to hear it. I need to hear it all.”

I blow out a long breath, the memory of that night still fresh in my head. “She was there alone.

On business or something. She was talking to all three of us. It was just fun conversation and innocent banter. Or so I thought. I swear I wasn’t there to…” I close my eyes. “Tag and Cooper got up to play darts in the other room. The two of us sat at the bar alone. I guess I liked the attention. You were working mostly nights at your internship in the city, and with me teaching, it seemed we barely crossed paths. You had just turned down two jobs. Jobs I knew you wanted. And I knew you turned them down for me. And I knew I was an asshole to let you. There was unspoken tension between us.

And we let it fester. While at the bar, I got a text from you saying you’d be late. It was the third time that week. I was sitting there thinking of how different we’d become, and she was right in front of me being all attentive and available. And then she kissed me. There was no warning. She just did it. And damn it, I let her. Before I could really comprehend what was happening, I was kissing her back.

Because in that moment, I felt alive for the first time in a long time. But it didn’t take long for my brain to take over and remind me of everything I was putting on the line with that one horrible mistake. So I ran out of the bar, took a cab all the way home, and got in the shower, scrubbing every part of myself raw as if that would somehow absolve me of what I’d done.”

“It was shortly after my birthday, wasn’t it?”

I nod in shame, still feeling as if it was just last night, not two years ago.

“I knew something had changed,” she says. “But it was football season, and you had a lot going on with school and the team and the playoffs.”

“It wasn’t any of that. It was my guilt. It was eating away at me.”

“And that’s why you let me go.” I watch a lone tear travel down her cheek. There was a time when I would reach over and wipe it. And although the urge is strong, I don’t. “Oh, Jaxon.”

Suddenly, swarms of what-ifs swirl through my head. What if I hadn’t kissed that woman? What if she had never lied? What if I went after her? What if we were still together?

“I’ll tell everyone,” I say. “I see how women treat you around here—at the reunion. I hear them talking. Poor Jaxon being dumped by that selfish slut. I felt bad enough letting them think it even when I thought you’d cheated on me, but now…” My head falls back onto the couch pillow. “It’s even more unfair letting people believe it was your fault.”