“Not as much.”
I had no idea.
“Somehow Makayla saw past the DEFCON-Level-One anger-management issues and brought out a patient side in him, and a smile that earned him a spot in People Magazine, where they pick the sexiest man alive.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Sexiest television host, or house flipper, or…I don’t remember. I purged it from my mind after I had to hear about it a million times.”
“And you’re saying that’s Makayla’s doing.”
“Without her as his touchstone, he’s sort of plain and easily riled, and no one enjoys being around someone with a hair-trigger temper. But see, she loves him, he knows it, and so he sort of basks in that, soaks it up, and projects this man who still loses his shit on people, but only because they’re idiots and they deserve it.”
“I see.”
He turned away, looking out the window for several minutes, watching scenery go by that consisted of little more than lights and mile markers.
“I noticed something,” I said, interrupting his thoughts.
“What’s that?” He didn’t turn to look at me.
“Your ex is smirking in all those pictures.”
“Probably.”
“That’s a normal expression for him.”
“It is.”
“I bet that’s what attracted you to him in the first place, and it’s what you meant before, when you were explaining it wasn’t only his looks that draw people to him.”
“Yes.” He sighed, back to looking at me.
“It’s his confidence that makes him sexy.”
“It’s what people notice, it’s what I noticed, but I realized a few months after the debacle on New Year’s that I was mistaken.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mistook his arrogance for self-confidence and his greed for ambition. I never saw him clearly, not until the end. I’d entirely missed the way he undermined my belief in myself and what I’m capable of.” He sounded rehearsed, like he’d recited this a dozen times before.
“That was an awfully succinct statement of the issue there, Cam.” I shot him a look. “What the hell?”
“I know.” He sounded both resigned and bitter. “But I’ve had lots of time to work it out in my head, but not without some help. Did I mention Mike is a psychiatrist?”
I chuckled. “No, you didn’t.”
“Well, he is, so whenever you talk to him about a problem, he defaults to doctor mode and tightens up your language.”
I snorted out a laugh.
“As I’m sure you can imagine, it’s wildly annoying, and he’s getting better, but that was his take on Troy.”
“And what was yours?”
“I can’t argue with the man; he’s not wrong. When I was with him, Troy was all over my mistakes, picking at every little thing I did wrong, to the point where it felt as though he was watching and waiting for me to screw up so he could berate me for it. The constant critiquing was supposed to ‘help me do better next time,’ but all it did was make me not want to share anything with him. I didn’t want to have a failure pointed out or be told I’d missed an easy opportunity, so eventually, I stopped talking to him about anything but the most benign stuff. I listened to him, I made an excellent hype man, validating all his choices, but when he’d ask how my day was, I’d tell him fine and leave it at that.”
“That’s a horrible way to live.”
“Yes, it was, and it wore me down. When you begin every conversation by praising someone, only to have them turn around and point out all your failings and faults, it takes a toll and creates so much self-doubt.”
“I’m sure it does.” I watched him, and it hurt to see how sad he looked.
“It’s funny,” he began softly, “but what I missed most was not being able to offer him my help, because I felt stupid, inept, like I couldn’t do anything right. It’s why I was always so eager to assist his friends. I was trying so hard to prove to him that I had value.”
“Why did you allow him to do that to you?”
He didn’t answer, turning away from me to stare out the window again.
“Cam?”
“It’s embarrassing,” he said to the night sky and passing scenery.
“Tell me anyway. You know I would never laugh at you. Not unless you farted in public, ’cause that shit’s funny.”
He turned, and I saw that I’d gotten the smile I was after. “It sounds so stupid when I say it now, but I was amazed, for the longest time, that he’d ever looked at me in the first place. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Everybody looks at you. I can vouch for that. Even when I had Doug draped over me in the hallway of that hotel and you were standing there arguing with me, even when I thought about decking you––”
“What? I was the absolute embodiment of politeness.”
“You were a pill.”
“You woke me out of a sound sleep!” he countered defensively.