Page 39 of The Lie

Tears are now blurring my vision as I place the last card down, because the truth is, I miss him too.

I blow out a long, deflated breath and just stand here, feeling more lost and uncertain. I can’t keep doing this. I should call him and hear him out, but I don’t know if I’m ready for what he has to say. The longer I put it off, the harder it becomes.

I slide my hand into the back pocket of my jeans, and my fingers curl around my phone just as a loud knock on the front door makes me jump.

“Pop,” I hear a second later. “Pop, are you in there?”

There’s only one person in my life who calls me Pop. The other Sinclair. Why is he here? My heart drops. Has something happened to Bennett?

My feet are moving before my brain even realises. I swing the front door open to find Nolan holding up a half-empty bottle of tequila, with a goofy smile plastered on his face. “I thought we could commiserate together.”

His words aren’t slurred, but he rocks back on his heels, loses his balance, and stumbles half a step backward. The liquid in the bottle sloshes in his hand, and that’s when I realise he’s drunk.

“Commiserate?” I ask, frowning.

“Our breakups.”

I gasp. “You broke up with your fiancée?”

His nostrils flare as he exhales through his nose and turns his face to the side, gazing off into the darkness. “She bailed on our weekly family dinner at my parents’ place tonight. Claimed they hate her, so she refused to go. Truth was, she had other plans. I came home and found the pool guy balls deep inside her.”

“Oh my goodness. You caught her cheating on you with the pool guy?”

Nolan’s gaze finds mine again, and whatever humour he came here with has drained from his face. His expression is now solemn, and his eyes are shining with unshed tears.

“Yeah,” he says with a weary sigh. “Can I come in? I have nowhere else to go. I didn’t want to call Bennett and deal with his ‘I told you so’ bullshit. Not right now.”

I glance over his shoulder toward the driveway, then out to the street. “You didn’t drive here under the influence, did you?”

“Nah, I got a taxi. I remembered the street name from when Bennett got me to put it into his GPS, but not the house number, so I’ve been walking around for a while trying to find your place. I actually knocked on a house a few doors down, and they directed me here. Can I please come in, darlin’? I just need … someone to talk to.”

“Of course.”

I step aside, giving him room to pass. Once he’s inside, I close the door behind us. I know this man even less than I know his brother, but something in my gut tells me I can trust him.

He stops just inside the doorway as his eyes assess the room. He blows out a low whistle through his teeth before saying, “It looks like a fucking florist in here.”

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Yeah, your brother’s a little intense.”

Nolan barks out a laugh. “He can be. I think you broke his heart, Pop,” he says. “Just like Amanda broke mine. I can’t believe I was supposed to marry that cheating bitch next weekend.”

I broke Bennett’s heart? There’s so much I want to ask about that, but this isn’t about me right now.

Nolan lifts the bottle of tequila to his lips and takes a large gulp. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, but when my eyes lift to his face, I see tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Oh, Nol,” I say, stepping forward and rubbing a comforting hand down his back. “I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did, but at least it was before the wedding. From the little I’ve heard about this woman, she didn’t deserve you anyway.”

He swipes at his face, brushing away the tears, but they keep coming.

“Bennett was right … so was my mother. That woman was a walking red flag.” His sad eyes lift to mine. “I should’ve listened to them.”

“Hindsight is a bitch, like Amanda, apparently,” I say, gently taking the bottle from his hand and guiding him to the couch.

He sinks into it and tips his head back, rubbing his hands over his face. “What am I going to do, Pop?”

“What do you want to do? Do you want to try and work past this?”

“Hell fucking no! I want that two-timing arsehole gone. I want her out of my house and out of my life.” His gaze moves to me, and he looks like he’s on the verge of crying again. “I fucking loved that woman, Poppy. I genuinely did. I loved her despite her constant cunty behaviour. I gave her the world, and this is how she treats me.” His voice cracks as he speaks, and when he covers his face with his hands and begins to sob, I don’t know what to say or do.