“You cheated on me. I always knew this would happen. I always knew you’d cheat on me.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“Just tell me, Graham.”
I threaded my fingers through my hair, uncertain of what to do other than telling the truth. “Jesus! I didn’t kiss her.”
“You did,” she cried, wiping away the tears from her eyes. “I know you did, because I know her. I know my sister. She probably knew you were my husband and did it to get back at me. She destroys everything she touches.”
“I didn’t kiss her.”
“She’s this—this plague of sickness that no one sees. I see it, though. She’s so much like my mother, she ruins everything. Why can’t anyone else see what she’s doing? I can’t believe you’d do that to me—to us. I’m pregnant, Graham!”
“I didn’t kiss her!” I shouted, my throat burning as the words somersaulted from my tongue. I didn’t want to know anything more about Jane’s past. I hadn’t asked her to tell me about her sisters, I hadn’t dug, I hadn’t badgered her, but still, we somehow ended up in an argument about a woman I hardly knew. “I have no clue who your sister is, and I don’t care to know anything more about her. I don’t know what the hell is eating you up in your head, but stop taking it out on me. I didn’t lie to you. I didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t do anything wrong tonight, so stop attacking me on today of all days.”
“Stop acting like you care about today,” she whispered, her back turned to me. “You didn’t even care about your father.”
My mind flashed.
Still, with him gone, everything around me has somehow slowed, and I miss the memories that never existed.
“Now’s a good time to stop talking,” I warned.
She wouldn’t.
“It’s true, you know. He meant nothing to you. He was a good man, and he meant nothing to you.”
I remained quiet.
“Why won’t you ask me about my sisters?” she asked. “Why don’t you care?”
“We all have a past we don’t speak about.”
“I didn’t lie,” she said once again, but I had never called her a liar. It was as if she was trying to convince herself she hadn’t lied, when in fact, that was exactly what she’d done. The thing was, I didn’t care, because if I’d learned anything from humans, it was that they all lied. I didn’t trust a soul.
Once a person broke trust, once a lie was brought to the surface, everything they ever said, true or false, felt as if it was at least partially covered in betrayal.
“Fine. Okay, let’s do this. Let’s just put it all out there on the table. Everything. I have two sisters, Mari and Lucy.”
I cringed. “Stop, please.”
“We don’t talk. I’m the oldest, and Lucy is the youngest. She’s an emotional wreck.” It was an ironic statement, seeing as how Jane was currently in the middle of her own breakdown. “And she’s the spitting image of my mother, who passed away years ago. My father walked out on us when I was nine, and I couldn’t even blame him—my mother was a nutcase.”
I slammed my hands down on my desk and flipped around to face her. “What do you want from me, Jane? You want me to say I’m pissed at you for not telling me? Fine, I’m pissed. You want me to be understanding? Fine, I understand. You want me to say you’re right for ditching those people? Great, you’re right for ditching them. Now can I please get back to work?”
“Tell me about yourself, Graham. Tell me about your past—you know, the one you never talk about.”
“Leave it alone, Jane.” I was so good at keeping my feelings at bay. I was so good at not getting emotionally involved, but she was pushing me, testing me. I wished she would stop, because when the feelings unleashed from the darkness of my soul, it wasn’t sadness or misery that came shooting out.
It was anger.
Anger was creeping up, and she was mentally slamming a sledgehammer against me.
She was forcing me to turn back into the monster she hadn’t known she lay beside each night.
“Come on, Graham. Tell me about your childhood. What about your mom? You had to have one of those, right? What happened to her?”
“Stop,” I said, shutting my eyes tight, my hands forming fists, but she wouldn’t let it go.