Page 10 of The False Flat

He pulled back like I’d slapped him. “I didn’t know.”

“Because I didn’t tell you.”

And there were so many other things I hadn’t told him. Because being with Chad was like being with someone and being alone at the same time. He had his life, and I had mine. He was a well-rounded version of myself. That had been the beauty of it. No commitments. But I’d been so preoccupied with how he didn’t require what other men had required of me that, blinded by our chemistry, for six months I missed all the red flags. What made our relationship perfect was that he’d spent half his time with another woman I didn’t even know about. And what did that say about me that that was my perfect relationship, half a man?

“I think you should go.”

But he didn’t move. “I’m getting a divorce. It’s what I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Tears stung the backs of my eyes. I hadn’t expected him to say that. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you back. I want this.” His hand moved between us. “I want us. I think I love you.”

I closed my eyes.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” he went on. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m leaving Vicki whether you take me back or not. It’s the right thing to do. But I’m not giving up on us. This feels right to me. You’re right for me. And I don’t deserve another chance. I know that. But I’m human. I made a stupid, stupid mistake that hurt a lot of people, but I can’t lose everything because of it.”

My breath pumped in and out of my lungs too fast, and I counted. I counted the little holes in the blinds on my front door, and when that wasn’t enough, I counted all the things I didn’t have in my house, all the paintings I didn’t have on my walls, all the knickknacks on the shelves I hadn’t assembled.

“I just moved here. I just bought this house. I’m trying to build my own business.” It all sounded hollow in my own ears.

He took my hand, squeezed it slightly. I liked the warmth of his palm; I hated that I liked it. I hated myself too. “You didn’t move here for friends or a job or anything.” His fingers interlaced with mine, and he pulled me closer.

I hadn’t moved here for friends or a job. To my shame, Chad was the closest thing I had to a friend, and he knew this about me. I think he liked it about me. I fit into his life without complication. No arguments over who to spend time with. No fuss when he wanted to hang out with his guy pals. He’d lead and I’d follow, because what else did I have?

“I mean something to you. I have to,” he said. “Why else would you move across states when you found out I was married? That kind of action means something.”

Sweat stung my underarms, a sharp pinprick of guilt. He was right. That kind of action did mean something, but it didn’t mean what he thought it meant.

I hadn’t moved across the country because I’d been devastated to find out my boyfriend had been lying during our entire relationship. I’d uprooted my whole life because, looking out my crystal clear office window back in Minnesota, I’d discovered what a truly despicable human being I’d become—I should’ve known he was married. Like, why hadn’t I been at the Fletcher client meeting with him? Because he’d taken his wife, and I should’ve seen it.

But I’d never been with him for love. If you loved, you were vulnerable, and if you were vulnerable, your heart could be sucked out of your chest. If you got too attached to someone and that someone left you—I couldn’t go through that again. It was easier to do without it in the first place. Experience had told me that.

All those months ago, I’d slid onto the black short-backed barstool beside Chad the night we’d met, the night of my father’s funeral. The clean-cut, muscled bartender placed my father’s favorite drink, a scotch and soda, on the shiny, midnight blue bar top, and Chad laughed, told me he was having exactly the same thing. Conversation flowed. He’d had a rough day in the courtroom, and I told him about my job. I didn’t even need to turn him into a number. And then later, after we’d slept together and continued to meet, I didn’t question the unexplained texts he got, or his sudden need to leave when we were together, or his flimsy excuses. Because that allowed me to keep him at arm’s length, companionship without all the depth of real commitment.

But when I saw that pretty, blonde ponytail, those electric-pink earbuds, the earnestness as she stood on tiptoe and looked into Chad’s face, her husband’s face, I realized that my desire to maintain distance had turned me into a cheater. I’d done this to myself, to all of us. Because if I’d just been more suspicious or observant or if I’d cared more about him, I could’ve spared us all this pain.

Shame burned in my belly. I should’ve known.

Houston undermining me professionally had infuriated me, fueled me to do something rash. But the scene out my office window had been the catalyst for me to pack my bags. I didn’t trust myself anymore. When Erin mentioned this house, it seemed like a way out, an escape from everything I’d done wrong. I could start over and build a new life, avoiding people so I wouldn’t hurt them as much as I’d been hurt.

Now . . . divorce. Had I caused this? Was I the reason some other woman’s life would soon be in shambles like my own?

He needed to go home, back to his wife, and leave me to this new life I was creating so I wouldn’t have even more guilt.

“Aren’t I now exactly what Vicki was to you then? Something you can’t have?”

He shook his head violently, a desperate gleam flickering around his cobalt irises. “No. This is different.”

He looked like he believed it was different, but I shook my head.

“I’m going to prove it to you,” he said, nodding again.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and for want of something to do with my hands, I pulled it out and looked at the screen. A text from Mrs. Crunch: Deanna, the woman from the grocery store, apologizing for the late reminder and confirming dinner this Friday night, as promised, two nights from now.

I glanced up at Chad. “You’re wrong about one thing. I have made friends here.” This wasn’t strictly true, but, as always, I had appearances to keep up, and he needed to believe there was no place for him in my life.

I quickly replied to Deanna before I could process what I was doing; I asked for her address and told her I’d be there.