A Winter Wedding(53)

“Do I have to keep guessing?” Genevieve asked. “Why don’t you tell me what he’s done and get it over with?”

“I’d rather not go into it. Everyone thinks he’s so great. But they don’t know him like I do.”

“Come on,” Genevieve said. “Quit being so mysterious. What’d he do to piss you off?”

Besides making her feel like shit for the past six years? Wasn’t that enough? She remembered the day she went in to end her pregnancy. They’d had such a terrible argument a few nights before. She’d wanted him to suffer some backlash, to lose something he’d cared about. So she’d aborted the baby. She’d thought, when she told him she’d had a miscarriage, that he’d regret being so harsh with her, that he’d show her a little of the love and concern she craved. But even the comfort he’d tried to offer had been strangely devoid of true feeling. And he’d looked at her with that doubt in his eyes, as if he knew she hadn’t miscarried in spite of what she’d said. Worse, he would no longer touch her, not to achieve any pleasure of his own. He’d use his hands, his mouth, even a vibrator to get her off—anything to avoid the risk of another pregnancy.

He’d never given her a fair chance, Noelle decided. He could’ve made her happy if he’d wanted to. But he refused to see anything except the worst in her, and now she was going to make sure he understood what feeling that shitty was like.

“Noelle?” Genevieve prompted.

Noelle dragged herself out of the hell of her own thoughts. “I don’t want to talk about it. Anyway, it’s too complicated.”

“So you hate him now?”

Shouldn’t she hate him? All she’d ever wanted was to feel the way he’d made her feel that first weekend. She’d never experienced anything so heady or exciting in her life. But whatever had made him want her had faded fast. After the first couple of days, he’d acted as if it was a chore just to put up with her.

Unwilling to feel what those memories evoked, she turned her attention to the revenge she’d achieved instead. “I told my family that he’s been trying to get me to sleep with him again.” She’d known how much it would incense her parents to think Kyle was trying to use her. They were so adamant that she attend church, straighten out her life and have some self-respect that they’d immediately flown to her defense.

Whether Olivia had believed her, however, Noelle couldn’t tell. Although her sister tried to be supportive these days, Brandon still wouldn’t give her the time of day.

Genevieve’s eyebrows had drawn together. “Is it true?” When Noelle shrugged, Genevieve smiled broadly. “Because if that’s your only problem, send him over to my place. I’d be happy to have him in my bed—”

“Shut up!” Noelle snapped. “Do you have to be such a stupid whore?”

Stung, Genevieve sobered instantly. “Wow. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...to upset you. I was just making a joke.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny.”

“I’ve heard you joke like that yourself,” she said.

The sullen note in Genevieve’s response made Noelle angrier. “I don’t care what you’ve heard. Get out.”

“You want me to leave?” she asked, blinking in astonishment.

“Yes, and if you can’t have more sympathy for me than that, don’t ever come back.”

“But—”

“Get out of my house!” Noelle shouted, and once they reached the door, she gave her friend a shove.

*

“Have you had dinner?” Kyle asked as he dragged various ingredients out of the refrigerator. “Would you like a sandwich?”

Lourdes had come into the house with him, but then she’d gone to the couch to strum her guitar. “Don’t tell me you’re hungry,” she said. “You barely got home from dinner.”

He gave her a grim smile. “Yeah, well, that didn’t go as planned.”

She thought he’d returned awfully fast...

Setting her guitar aside, she walked over to the counter. “You were only gone an hour or so, but I assumed you’d eaten.”

“’Fraid not—although I probably should’ve stayed. Now I’ll have to go back later and apologize to my mom.”

Once she could smell the food, Lourdes realized she was hungry and pulled some slices of bread from the loaf he’d gotten out. “What happened? Don’t tell me you got into an argument with your brother or his wife.”

“No. Noelle’s causing trouble again.”

“Trouble? That’s vague.”

He slathered a piece of wheat bread with mayonnaise. “Trust me, you don’t want to hear any more about it.”

“Actually, I do,” she said. “Maybe it’ll take my mind off my own screwed-up life. What’s going on?”

“Basically, she’s unhappy that I’m not more receptive to her advances.”

Once he was finished with it, Lourdes took the knife. “More of the same? Why would that ruin dinner?”

“Because she seems to have turned a corner. She’s figured out that we’re never getting back together—and now she’s angry.”

“Good thing I’ve committed to do the cooking from now on.”