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Why the hell did I push her to open up to me?
“I told you so.” She smirks, crossing her arms.
“What’s your number?” I ask, gritting my teeth.
What number would make me happy? Fucking zero but fat fucking chance. She’s engaged to him.
I curl my fist into a ball, trying my best not to smash the bottle in front of me. Control your anger.
“I don’t have a death wish. We need to get off this topic.”
“Answer me, Charlotte,” I demand in a low voice. “You want to be honest? This is your chance. Besides, what’s the worse I can do?”
The question doesn’t have an answer. I’ve done many things in my life, many of which I am not proud of. I’ve seen things, know people in the underground world, and if there’s a chance I can lose the one thing in my life which means more to me than anything I’ll do whatever it takes, whether that be good or bad.
“Not as many as you think, so drop it.”
“Number.”
“Fine! Five. Are you happy now?”
Anger wells inside my chest. Flexing my fingers, I take a deep breath willing myself to calm down. I can’t lose her now, not over my behavior.
“No, I’m not, Charlotte. Why would I ever be happy that someone else had their hands on you?”
“Okay, so give me yours? I can take it. I’m a big girl. Like what? Over a hundred?”
I have no clue because I never cared, I never asked names, never spent the night or cuddled or did any shit like that. I wore fucking condoms and sent them on their merry way. “Let’s drop it.”
“Bullshit. If I had to tell you then it’s only fair.”
“Charlotte, I don’t know. Sex was just that, meaningless sex. No attachments, no names, no more than one time.”
“Wow.”
“Wow, what?”
“I don’t know.” She lowers her head. “I mean, of course, you had sex… but ouch.”
“Look at me, Charlotte.” I cup her chin, raising her eyes to meet mine. “I fucking missed you, and it hurt like hell. I thought they would make me forget, but they didn’t. If I could have my way it will only be you for the rest of my life, but I’m not the one calling the shots here.”
Charlotte sit’s in silence, nervously fiddling with the pendant I gave her. The silence is deafening, so I do the only thing a jerk like me would do, I turn the conversation back to her, back to that number five.
“So, five then?”
“Lex, don’t… please.”
“But we’re friends, and there’s no point in keeping things from each other. Who were they?”
“Seriously, you’re going to turn this on me. I’m not the one who screwed all of the United States.”
“Charlotte, please don’t. I’m sorry.”
“Well, you know what?” she starts, her eyes burn with a raging flame. “Since you asked the question, here goes. It took me two years and twenty-six days after you left me to be able to kiss someone else. Exactly three years and eighty-six days since the day you left me for me to have sex with another man. And even then, every person I was with, the whole five of them, was to escape the very fucking shitty hole you left me in.”
Her words cut me deep, all of her actions are premeditated because of me. I want to take her in my arms and kiss away all the scars, but jealousy is a force to be reckoned with. It’s ugly, uncontrollable, and in my case—imbedded in me.
Closing my eyes for a brief moment, they spring open a with a clearer vision. “Was Justin Timberlake one of the five?”
