Page 93 of Playing the Player

“Charlotte is keeping her at Josh’s place. She sleeps better at home.”

Diane moves to one of the bedrooms while I stay in the kitchen, my wet clothes dripping water droplets onto the tiled floor, leaving a puddle beneath my feet. She comes out a moment later with a stack of clothes and a towel.

“Do you need help?” She asks, setting the clothes onto the dining room table and handing me the towel.

“Only if you promise not to touch.” I flash her a knowing smirk and she swats at my arm. It’s a good thing Dee knows what I’m like or I could be on the receiving end of a slap to the face at any second now. It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before.

Diane unstraps my sling, the movement sending a shooting pain down my arm making me hiss. “So,” Diane says as she carefully threads my injured arm through the shirt sleeve. “What brought you here?”

“Sasha dumped me.”

Diane pauses her movement, her wide eyes staring up into my own. “When?”

“Two days ago.”

With my shirt fully in place, Diane helps me strap up the sling again. God, it was nice to be free there for a minute.

“Why?”

I stare at the floor. “Guess she didn’t need me anymore.”

Diane turns around as I peel my wet pants off my legs and put on the dry pair she gave me. “Well, did she say why?”

I hang my head as shame floods me. “She said none of it was real, but that was bullshit. And then she tried to explain, but I wouldn’t let her.” I scrub a hand over my face. “I didn’t want to hear any more excuses.” The disappointment in Diane’s face hits harder than a hit to the boards. “I was angry and I needed out. I didn’t want to make things worse.”

And yet that’s exactly what I did tonight. I made it look like I’ve moved on after only two days. It doesn’t matter what the truth is. Sasha is only going to see the betrayal anytime she looks at me. I can’t even blame her for that.

“I have thought about calling her, or going over to hear her out, but I think she needs space from me, especially after tonight.”

Diane frowns. “What happened tonight?”

I tell her everything that has happened. The girl. The bar. Olivia. The text messages. By the end, she’s looking at me like she’s decided whether she wants to hug me or kick my ass. Honestly, I’d deserve either.

“I just wanted one night.” I say quietly. “One night where missing her didn’t hurt so much.”

The cafe falls silent and only then do I really look at Diane. Tiredness lines her face. Her usual blue eyes have dulled to a grey, her skin is weathered and pale. She has lost her shine. My chest aches as I realize just how much of a selfish bastard I’ve been, thinking only of me and my situation and not stopping to think about anyone else.

“Hey, is everything okay with you?”

She smiles up at me. It’s the kind of smile that mothers give when they’re trying to convince everyone they’re fine. “I’m okay, Muffin.”

“You’re working yourself too hard.” I give her a pointed look but she bats it off.

“I’m just getting old.”

“And yet, you still don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

She pinches my cheek, muttering words under her breath that I can’t hear.

“I better head home.” I tell her, standing from my spot at the dining table. “Get some rest.”

“I will. Don’t worry about me.”

“Love you, Dee.” I lean down, placing a kiss to her cheek before walking to the door. Her words float to my ears as I leave, warming my chest.

“Love you too, son.”

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