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We make ourselves presentable and exit the coat closet, feeling more relaxed, until we turn the corner back into the gala, and I see Greg standing with our mutual client at the bar. Jameson tenses up and looks where I am looking. He curses under his breath.
I turn and kiss him on the cheek while cupping his face with my hand. “I need you to not go marching over there like a caveman. He is here with a mutual client. It is business.” He stares into my eyes, and I can see the concern in his face. This man cares about me, truly cares for my well-being, and I feel safe with him.
He grabs my wrist and pulls me in closer to him. “I trust you, baby. But it’s him I don’t trust. I know it’s your mutual client, but, Aria, I think it’s his way of getting back at you, for what, I am not sure.”
Baby. He used that word when we were in his tattoo shop, when he says it, my body breaks out in goosebumps. “I know, but I can handle Greg. I did for all our shitty marriage.” He leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips. I sigh and turn to head toward the bar. Jameson’s gaze burns into me the whole time.
Greg and our client are laughing at something or joking as I approach. I put on the best smile I can muster, as I can feel the aftermath of the coat closet leaking down my inner thighs. I just hope it doesn’t soak through my dress.
Mrs. Chesterfield wiggles her perfectly groomed eyebrows at me. “Oh, there she is! Aria, darling, I was looking for you earlier, but you seemed busy with that hunk of man you came in with.”
I chuckle at her flattering response. “He’s nice on the eyes, isn’t he?
Greg interjects, annoyed. “Not sure if he knew that this is a formal event, and not a biker bar with his tattoos and long hair,Aria.But some of us have standards and class.” He throws back his bourbon and slams the glass down angrily.
Mrs. Chesterfield turns her head toward me and says sweetly, “Makes it all the more fun, doesn’t it?” She winks at me. I shake my head and laugh silently. “Greg, darling, thank you for the dance.” She goes to leave the bar but turns around to me. “Oh, and, Aria, I will be sending over the contracts first thing in the morning. You are right. That place is the best.” I laugh softly as she walks back to her table.
“Do you even know anything about yourhusband,Aria?” The anger is dripping off each word.
I turn back to him, and he has another glass of bourbon as he swirls it around in his clear glass tumbler.
I narrow my eyebrows together. “What are you even talking about, Greg? How much did you have to drink?”
His face stiffens and his nostrils flare. “You don’t fucking know, do you? You are a stupid bitch. You have no idea about your husbands past? His dark past,” he slurs.
I growl and go to leave the bar. Screw this and screw him. I am not going to stand here and listen to my ex-husband bash someone I care about. Someone I love. Wait…am I in love with Jameson? I think I am. I think of the ways he has proven that he cares for me. He listens to me, he understands me, and appreciates me. I mean, the man is obsessed with my body and tonight in the coat closet was the perfect example.
“Do you know that your husband went to jail for seven years? For drinking and driving? He hit a teenager who now is confined to wheelchair.” I spin to face him, and he slams back the rest of his drink. He laughs at me and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “By the look on your face, I take that as a no. You of all people should know how that feels. Remember what happened in college? A drunk driver killed your parents. Now, look at you married to a drunk who has hurt some innocent teen. I bet your parents are really proud of you.” He signals for another drink from the bartender.
I can feel the tears building behind my eyes, and it is taking everything in me not to cry in front of this son of a bitch. It feels like someone has punched me in the gut, and suddenly I cannot breathe. The room feels as if it is closing in on me. The noise in the room sounds far away, as if I am at the end of a long tunnel. I feel someone wrap their arms around me to hold me up. Looking down at the arms around me, I see his tattooed fingers. Jameson.
No.
No.
No.
No, he would have told me. He would have explained what happened, right? How is it that it was my piece of shit ex-husband who told me, and tonight of all nights. I wonder how long Greg was sitting on that fucking goose egg. I don’t care. I just want to know the truth.
I feel his hot breath against my ear as he whispers softly, “Angel, I got you. Just take a deep breath with me. In and out.”
I close my eyes and count to ten and breathe with him.
I turn my body away from him, and I instantly miss his arms around me. Slowly I bring my tear-rimmed eyes to meet his confused looking ones. “Is it true?” My voice is shaking.
He takes a deep sigh, and he already knows what I am asking without me actually saying the words. “Aria, yes, it is true––”
I cut him off. “And you didn’t tell me? You thought that after what I shared with you about my parents dying in a fucking car accident due to a drunk driver, it was okay foryouto not share thatyou went to fucking jail for seven years for driving under the influence?” I shout angrily at him.
He reaches for me, and I pull away. “I wanted to tell you so many times. But I could not find the words. Trust me when I say, I understand the hurt that you feel for losing your parents.I lost my family to a drunk driver. My parents and fourteen-year-old brother.And the fact I did the same thing, the guilt has lived with me since I was twenty-one.” He moves closer to me. “Aria, I am so sorry I did not tell you…please we can move past this.” I don’t even catch it when he cups my face with both hands, wiping my tears I didn’t not realized were falling down my face with his thumbs. “I love you, Aria. I love you so much. Please we can work this out. I need you.”
I close my eyes and whisper, “No.” I move his hands from my face, and I walk away from Jameson. From the man who I do, in fact, love with all of my heart. But I cannot look at him after knowing what I know. Yes, if he told me, we most certainly would have worked this out. But for me to find out from Greg, it was embarrassing and hurtful.
Twenty-one
jameson
Iamleftstandingat the bar, watching Aria leave the gala. My chest is tight, and I rub my fist over it to try and get the pain to subside. I’m so angry at myself for not sharing my personal story with her, but to have her fucking ex-husband tell her. I think the asshole needs to be taught a goddamn lesson. He just fucking blew up my marriage all within a matter of minutes. My fists are balled at my sides, and my whole body is lit up with adrenaline and anger. Anger at myself, but also toward that coward, Greg.
