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If I didn't know better, I'd swear she was jealous.
I hold her gaze. "When you asked for honesty, I gave it to you."
She shakes her head and, once again, stares at me like I'm an idiot. It's a game of chicken, but I'm not going to release her stare.
Finally, she sighs. "You were better overall."
"I don't like the sound of that overall."
She shoots me a look. An "if you want me to tell you, shut the fuck up with your sass" kind of look.
I nod. Fine.
"He was more..." She looks at me with concern, but she shakes her head. "It's not that he was better or bigger, but you were always trying so hard and you were so obsessed with making sure I was satisfied."
Yeah, she really makes me sound like an awful lover.
"You wanted me to try less hard to make you come?" I ask.
She presses her back against the bed. "Not exactly." Her eyes turn to the window. Her voice lowers. "But he made everything feel effortless."
"Well."
She looks at me with concern. I must not be hiding my grimace as well as I thought I was.
She shakes her head. "I knew you didn't want to hear it."
"It's fine."
She looks down at her cards and spends what seems like forever rearranging them. "By the time he and I first had sex, you and I weren't connecting. I swear, Luke. I was looking for an out, and that was it. You have to admit, things were pretty strained."
I don't have to admit anything.
"Luke?"
"Thanks for telling me the truth."
"Are you mad?"
"No," I say. "But I still hate him. Nothing you can say will ever stop me from hating him."
"I'm really sorry, Luke. I don't know if I'll ever apologize enough for lying."
"You don't have to keep apologizing. I forgave you a long time ago."
It's hard to stay mad at someone after she tries to kill herself with your bottle of sleeping pills.
I pull a card from the draw pile, but I don't look at it. My eyes are on Samantha. She's still looking at her cards, doing a poor job of hiding how much she hates this topic. She usually looks so polished. She usually keeps up her brave face so well. I barely recognize her like this.
She needs me right now. She wouldn't let anyone else see her like this.
She trusts me.
Her eyes turn to the floor. "I get so guilty, I can't sleep." It's a low whisper. It's desperate and needy. "We had our flaws. You have your flaws. But you treated me better than any guy ever has. And I wanted so badly to stay in love with you, but I couldn't. And, instead of telling you, like a decent person, I strung you along while I fell in love with someone else."
She runs her fingers over the edges of the cards. "I don't care what you think about it. I don't care if you're over it, or if you've forgiven me. I'm not over it. It was an awful thing to do, and only an awful person would do it."
"That's not true."
