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“No, I won’t do that. If you’re sorry, you need to tell her.”
“Okay.”
I swallow and we say goodnight. After, I lie on my bed before lifting my phone and scroll through some of the social media sites. Nora wasn’t wrong, the things they’re saying about Amelia are vile. Calling her slut, a whore, saying she probably earned her degree on her back. That last one makes me see red and I go to respond but stop myself. It will only increase the frenzy.
Finally, I get the balls to do what I should have done when the news first hit and call Beck.
“What?”
His angry greeting isn’t what I was expecting but I should have. “How is she?”
Beck snorts. “Like you fucking care?”
My back stiffens and the natural urge to defend myself comes out. “I care, you know I do.”
“Oh, really? Is that why you haven’t spoken to her or done a damn thing to defend what these pigs are saying about her? Do you have any idea what your silence is doing to her? The University threatened to pull her offer.”
My belly hollows out and I lean against the wall, sliding down it until my ass hits the floor. “No!”
“Yes.”
“If you’d kept your promise, this wouldn’t have happened.” It’s a weak and feeble argument, and I don’t even know why I’m making it.
“You’re right, I kissed the woman I love in public and broke my promise to be discreet. I made a mistake, but my biggest mistake was agreeing to it in the first place. What I feel for her isn’t a dirty secret to be kept in the dark, and neither is what I felt for you. I should have stood firm, but I didn’t. I caved for you and I learned my lesson because I won’t ever hide who I am again.”
He sounds angry and my heart breaks at his use of the past tense, as if what he felt for me just dissipated in a puff of smoke. “You’re right. I should never have asked you to hide it. I hope you can forgive me one day and we can be friends.” What am I saying? I don’t want to be friends with Beck or Amelia. They’re my everything, and yet I can’t say it. I can’t get past the thought of my career being over, of everyone knowing I’m not normal.
“Not a chance. I’ll never forgive you for hurting her like this, for throwing us to the wolves. Honestly, you’re not the man I thought you were. Now I’m going to go and try and fix this mess and deal with that piece of shit ex who leaked the photos.”
Dead air is the only sign he’s hung up on me.
The next fewdays are torturous, and instead of easing up, the media gets worse, painting me as a victim and Amelia and Beck as cheats. They dig through every part of their past, finding women Beck had slept with. They interview Amelia’s ex-boyfriend, Lance, who seems to relish every second as he tells the world she’s a sex addict with deviant tendencies. I should have punched that asshole when I had the chance. But for some reason, even now, I trust that Beck will deal with it because he’s a fixer.
I hide out in my home, my only contact with the outside world is Len and Nora. Audrey and Harrison won’t take my calls and at this point, I don’t blame them. I’m doing their friends dirty and they don’t like it.
I’ve thought non-stop about what Norrie said and what Beck said to me and every conversation I’ve ever had with Amelia springs to the forefront of my brain. What I’m coming to understand is that they were right. I did put them in an impossible situation, and yet they protected me. They locked a part of themselves away to do it, and it was only after hearing that I’d asked to extend my contract that they got careless. I self-sabotaged my relationship by asking Len to tie my hands.
I’ve fielded call after call from news outlets and talk show hosts wanting my side of the story and I’ve ignored them all, despite Len pushing me to go and tell the world that I’m a victim and Amelia was using me. I know she loved me, she showed me in every action. Every touch and word was filled with it.
An overwhelming urge to reach out to her fills me and I shoot off a text before can think better of it.
Xander: How are you doing?
God, that’s so lame, I almost delete it before she can read it but I see the little bubbles jumping, and my heart rate kicks up.
Amelia: Been better. You?
That’s so bland, nothing like the woman I know who puts an emoji in every text. I can feel the sad indifference through the words. I don’t even know what to say to her.
Xander: Yeah, all good.
Amelia: Good.
This is so awkward and painful, and yet even this small contact is like an electrical pulse of energy to my lackluster body.
Xander: Beck said the university was being difficult. Do you want me to call them?
Amelia: No, thank you. Beck handled it.
