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The worst part is some of the pictures are recent. I can tell by the haircut and location. He was still entertaining these women even though he and I were supposed to be together.
“I’ve known Reese my entire life. He’s a good guy, but he’s got baggage, and most of it is filled with ladies’ hearts and thongs.”
The police officer’s words echo in my mind. I’m being played. I can’t fucking believe it.
I storm into my bedroom and swallow down the lump in my throat. “Reese!”
When he doesn’t move, I slap his leg and call for him again.
“Hmm? Haven?” he answers groggily.
“Get up. What the fuck is this?”
“What?” He sits up.
“I said, what is this?” I put my phone up, so he can see the screen. “I told you that all I expected from you was honesty. All you had to do was be real with me, but you couldn’t. How the fuck could you embarrass me like this!” I fling my phone at him, the small device hitting him with a thump in his chest.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He picks up the phone, and I watch his face drop in either fear or shock. I can’t tell.
“I knew better than to mess around with you. I was too damn stupid to . . . you know what, screw this. Get up and get the hell out of my house.” In pure disgust, I turn and walk out of my room to the kitchen, where I grab my robe that is still on the floor.
“Haven, hold up,” he shouts at me, following me after he manages to slip his pants on.
“No. Get out.”
“I’m not fucking leaving. You’re going to hear me out,” he barks when he gets into the kitchen with me.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” I glare at him. “I know those photos, at least some of them are recent. If you wanted to be with other women, you could have ended shit with me. I wouldn’t have held it against you. You’ve got nothing to say to me.”
“I didn’t do anything with any of these women. You’re the only one I’ve been with. How the hell could you think I’m cheating on you?”
Picking up his sweater, I toss it at him. “How? When you got some bitch’s hand up your shirt and another wrapped around your waist, it makes it very easy for me to think that.”
He puts his sweater on, but still doesn’t move toward the door. My anger is shifting to agony, and I’m fighting to keep a lid on my tears. “Haven, I didn’t do anything. You have to trust me.”
“Trust you? When I get woken up to shit like this? Are you out of your mind? Tell me, how do you explain this crap?”
“It’s just pictures. Most of them are old. Yeah, some of them are recent, but I don’t know who any of these women are. Until I announce my retirement from professional boxing, I’m still the world heavyweight champion. Women want to take pictures with me, they want to see my body, or prove that I can pick them up. It’s all part of the show. It’s part of the spotlight. Since I’ve been with you, I’ve never done anything with anyone else. I put on a show for the camera, but when I come home to you, I give you everything I am.”
His words try to worm their way into my doubts. It’s too much.
“How do I know what you show them is fake? Maybe this,” I gesture between the two of us, “is what’s really the show.”
He clenches his jaw, and I see the muscle twitching as he grinds his teeth.
“You’ve got the world on a platter, Reese, I can’t compete with that.”
He takes a long step toward me, but I put my hand up to stop him.
“You’re not competing, Haven. Can’t you see, you’ve already fucking won.”
A tear spills down my cheek, and I look away. “I don’t feel like I won anything right now, Reese. I can’t do this. I’m not cut out for a life in the gossip rags.”
His hands ball into fists, “What are you saying to me, Haven? That’s it? You’re through?”
“I just . . .” Doubt, panic, and heartbreak threaten to suffocate me. I can barely get the words out. “I need a break, Reese.”
He stands there speechless, his body visibly shaking with anger. “The hell with it, then. The hell with all of it.”
