Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(113)

“Drew, I’m so sorry…”

He shook his head, the hard lines of his anger melting to resignation. “It was my fault. I made it so much worse than it could have been. I just lost it. But I saw him and I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That it was the end of us,” he said. “The anger surged in me but it was too late. I should have felt…more like it this whole time. You deserved more from me in every way, and now it’s too late. You’re in love with him. We all saw it. It was written all over your face.”

I reached one of his hands, and held it in both of mine. “It is over,” I said gently. “But not because of Cory. Because of us.”

“Because of me. I have a problem…”

“No, you don’t,” I said fiercely. “There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not a problem, it’s how you are. Since always. Right?”

Drew looked so uncomfortable, but then he seemed to settle into the idea. “Yeah. Since I can remember, I just don’t…have the drive.”

I smiled. “It’s okay. But the solution is not for me to cheat on you in my bungalow whenever I feel like it. I should never have done it in the first place, and I’m so sorry. The idea of doing it again and again…” I shivered in the night air, in my sleeveless dress.

“It’s not fair,” I continued, “to you or to me. The guilt would chip away at our marriage until it fell apart. I deserve a partner who is my partner in every way, and so do you,” I added quickly and took his face in my hands, to force him to look at me.

“You do too, Drew. You deserve to not feel that pressure every day, a pressure that keeps you working until you can hardly see straight, you’re so tired, in order to avoid what you really don’t want to do. You deserve a life outside of the office, Drew, with a woman who wants and feels the same thing you do.”

“Where would I find this mythical woman?” he asked with forced levity.

“Have you heard of this fabulous new invention?” I teased lightly. “It’s called the Internet.”

Drew made a face. “I don’t see how online dating is going to help me.”

“Not for dating, exactly. To find other women who are the same as you.” I bit my lip. “Women who are…asexual too.”

He shifted uncomfortably, though I could see him turning the word over and over. I could see him grasp for it, like an answer to a question he’d been asking for years. “Is that what I am?”

“It’s not for me to say,” I replied. “Only you know for certain, but I think maybe…” I cocked my head. “Or…I can set you up with my paralegal. He’s always thought you were cute.”

Drew laughed but it faded quickly. He looked uncertain, not knowing what to do next.

I took his hands again. “I love you. You will always be in my heart, but we just can’t.”

“You’re right. I’ll tell them—”

I stopped him. “You tell them that it’s your idea. That you’ve decided to call it off. That I betrayed you. They should know it was all my fault.”

“They don’t need to know anything. They’ll fill in their own truths no matter what we say. But we’ll tell them, together, that we’ve decided we’re better as friends. That’s the truth, isn’t it? When all is said and done? We’re still friends?”

Tears stung my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered. “That’s the absolute truth.”

#

“Ladies and gentlemen.” Drew tapped a spoon against his glass. I stood beside him at the head of the table, my hand clutched in his. “If I could have your attention for a moment.”

Forty faces turned to us, expectant and celebratory, each thinking that this was the moment in which Drew and I declared our engagement. Only my parents and a handful of others knew differently, though I wondered how fast the gossip had spread. I found Lilah and she nodded solemnly, offering silent support.

I listened as Drew spoke, watched the smiles fall from faces, watched them be replaced by shock and confusion, heard the murmurs and whispers begin. I thought I’d feel humiliated or even scared, but all I could think of was Cory and his little girl, and how I ached to be with them. My family, I thought, and those that watched me mistook the tears in my eyes for everything Drew and I were undoing.

The guests departed slowly, nearly all stopping to speak a word to us, and the engagement party became like a receiving line at a funeral. The Posse gathered around me, gabbling and asking me questions in hushed voices, their eyes wide with the excitement at the intrigue of it all.

I waved them all off, assuring them that I’d tell them everything at the Belvedere on Monday—an appointment I had no intention of keeping.

Jon Lawson and Michael Dooney approached, the former kissing my cheek, the latter standing stiffly, arms behind his back.

“My condolences,” Mr. Dooney said gruffly. “You seemed a good match.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Jon said. “And I know this is not the time or place to talk business, so I’m just going to leave this with you…”

He started to hand me the portfolio that contained the details of an extremely lucrative partnership, but I pressed it back. “I quit.”