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“I know his type,” she said. “And I’ve been there.”
I gnawed on the inside of my cheek.
“And if it were any other guy, I might suggest you fight for him or hold out some hope, but I’ve heard enough stories from James to know Quinn’s got a habit of kicking women to the curb the second he suspects they need him.”
I’d heard all the same stories, but she’d never seen how he was with me. No way I was just a statistic, a nameless notch on his bed post. I was more than that. I have to be more than that. I opened my mouth to say so, but I already knew how pathetic I’d sound. How desperate. “Please don’t tell James.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re joking, right? I have a long life ahead of me if I play my cards right, and breaking this news to James would be about as good for my health as canceling my gym membership to juggle grenades.”
My ribs caved in. Maeve wasn’t afraid of anything. This was bad. Worse than I realized. Did Quinn feel the same? Was he more afraid of telling my brother the truth than he was of hurting me?
“I’m so sorry, Maddy, but now that I know Quinn’s the guy you’ve been seeing, I’m feeling a lot less hopeful that he’s going to change his mind.”
“I appreciate the support,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice.
“Would you rather I lie to you?”
I folded my arms and leaned back in my chair. “I don’t want you to lie, but it would be nice if you didn’t just assume I was as disposable as all the other women he’s been with.”
“Don’t you get it, Maddy? It’s not you. If I thought it were you, I’d do whatever I could to help you fix this. But his flakiness has nothing to do with you. It’s him. He’s a serial womanizer, and a professional bachelor. You never should’ve let yourself fall for him in the first place.”
He made me, I wanted to say. He swept me off my feet. I never stood a chance. “That’s what he said,” I admitted finally, my tone laced with defeat. “That I should unfall.”
Maeve’s eyes wilted at the edges. “I’m sorry, Mads, but if he told you it’s over, maybe you should believe him.”
“Yeah,” I said, dragging my cocktail to the edge of the table in front of me. “Maybe I should.”
