Oceans Apart Book 1 (Oceans Apart #1)(14)

Time passed by faster than I was used to while I worked and got to know him, and soon enough we’d made use of online world clocks to decide that it was easiest for him to talk to me around two in the afternoon my time when it would be ten at night his time.

I could easily get away with chatting on Skype messaging while I was working, and he would be winding down for the night. Things went a lot faster after that, and I started to feel even closer to Tristan than I’d ever expected.

About a month after we’d first met, and after another run-in with Helena in the elevator on her way back up to the seventh floor from lunch, I told Tristan about Brad. I hadn’t been planning to, but Helena had looked at me and smirked before getting off the elevator, and I’d discovered that yes, being acknowledged by her was worse than being ignored.





Ginny :P: I wish there was some universal sign men had to wear when they were *s. So everyone else would know that they were *s, you know? It would make things so much f*cking easier.

Tristan: Hey the same thing could be said for women who are *s. I know a couple who would need a sign.

Tristan: Was some guy an * to you recently?

Ginny :P: Not really recently. About six or seven months ago. He cheated on me with someone who works in the same building as I do and I just saw her in the elevator.

Tristan: Really? Someone you have to see all the time? Talk about inconsiderate.

Ginny :P: You know what would have been really considerate? Him not cheating on me.

Tristan: Well, yeah, that is a good point. But think about it this way. At least you didn’t waste any more time on someone who had the capacity to hurt you like that in the first place, yeah?





I’d never thought about it that way. I’d been so concerned with thinking about what I’d lost; it hadn’t even crossed my mind to focus on the fact that it might have been a good thing.

Because if Brad really loved me, he wouldn’t have cheated. Even if Helena was “too hard to resist” or whatever other bullshit excuse he had come up with, he wouldn’t have even looked her way if he’d actually been in love with me the way I wanted him to be.





Ginny :P: Thanks for that. Really. I never thought about it that way. I guess I spent a lot of time wondering what I could have done better to make him want to stay with me.

Tristan: Nothing. Even if you were a bad girlfriend, which I doubt, he could have had the decency to break up with you right out instead of betraying your trust. The movies and shit made it seem like it was something that just happened spontaneously. Oh no, there’s a hot lady here and I can’t control myself even though I’m in a relationship!

Tristan: But it doesn’t work like that. You don’t just forget that you’re with someone. It’s a conscious decision to do the wrong thing.

Ginny :P: Speaking from experience?

Tristan: I’ve never cheated if that’s what you mean. I’ve just been hurt too.

Ginny :P: Really? Someone hurt you?

Tristan: Why is that so surprising?

Ginny :P: I don’t know. I guess I can’t really see why someone would want to.

Tristan: I could say the same for you. You deserve much better than that, you know.





Not even Kari had told me things like that after it had happened. She’d been more concerned with making sure I got revenge, but even now, months after the whole thing had gone down, I found myself wishing someone had told me it wasn’t my fault. Because it was like a weight was lifted from my shoulders.

It wasn’t me.

I wasn’t the reason for Brad cheating on me, which maybe meant it wasn’t my fault I was alone now. What I was looking for, someone I could trust who wanted to be with me for more than just one night — it wasn’t too much to ask.

It put a smile on my face for the rest of the week.

We went back to lighter conversations after that, until a couple more weeks went by and Tristan dropped a revelation of his own.

I never pried for too much information about his life, getting the sense there were some things he didn’t talk about for good reasons. I understood about being private, especially with someone he didn’t actually know all that well, even if that was changing every day.

But it was nearly two months in when he told me more about himself.





Tristan: So I haven’t been entirely honest with you.

Ginny :P: …about what? Oh, god, is the accent fake? I knew it was too good to be true. You live in Burbank, don’t you?

Tristan: You’re a dramatic sort of person, you know that?

Ginny :P: Yes.

Ginny :P: So what did you lie about?

Tristan: Who I am, I guess. My name isn’t really Tristan Lee. Well, it is, but there’s more to it. I’m Tristan Lee Armstrong.


I frowned and read the message over again. Clearly, that was supposed to mean something to me, but I was just confused.

Ginny :P: I don’t know what you’re trying to say.

Tristan: Really? I guess it would mean less over there. Google Armstrong Construction. I’ll wait.

Ginny :P: Ooookay.





Surprisingly enough, I didn’t even have to type the whole thing out before autocomplete was suggesting the name to me. I clicked the first link and found myself inundated with information about the company and pictures of the office building they worked out of and the many different projects they had worked on in Europe.