Three Sweet Nothings (Blindfold Club 5)

She straightened abruptly, pulling away like I was on fire. Her expression shifted and she whispered it with dread. “I was so angry. I . . . I don’t even remember most of what I said.”

“Yeah?” I spat out. “Well, I do.”

Her recorded tirade was like being run over a mandolin grater. Every sentence she spewed was another pass on the metal edges, taking chunks out of me.

“Whatever it was,” she gasped, “I didn’t mean it.”

Irrelevant, logic screamed at me. It was too little, far too late, and technically not even an apology. I put up a hand, waving her comment away. “Forget about it. It was a long time ago.”

I would act like I’d moved on, and pretend it was all water under the bridge, but that was what it would be. An act. Her words were still sharp in my mind. I’d cared about her so damn much. If I’d been able to fit my feelings for her into a tidy little box, the word love would have been scrawled across the side in black marker.

“What did I say?” Her expression was a mixture of fear and desperation. “Please, you have to tell me.”

“You opened with a strong barrage of insults. All the different ways I was a pussy. I’d thought it was some sort of a joke at first, but then you said where you were, and I figured out what had happened.”

“That,” she whispered, “I sort of remember. There was more?”

Oh, yes, there was. “You said you were glad I was leaving so you could move on and find a better guy who deserved you. I was just a good fuck you were having fun with.” Her face went ash white, but I pushed on. “Then, you told me you never really loved me, and you’d only said it because I was pathetic and so, so desperate to hear it.”

Ruby banded an arm around her stomach like I’d slugged her in the gut. Yeah, that was similar to my reaction the first time I’d heard it. She gasped, drawing in her breath as if it were painful, and her gaze dropped to my feet.

I tossed back the rest of my glass of champagne, giving me something else to do rather than stare at the woman who looked like she was going to be sick. If I was capable of falling in love, it should have been with Ruby. But it hadn’t happened.

At least, not for her.

The silence stretched between us, so tense I couldn’t tolerate another moment. “Coming up here was a mistake.”

She shook her head and lifted her gaze to meet mine, her eyes wet with tears. “I’m so sorry. I was hurting and I didn’t mean it, not a word.” She spoke it with conviction. “You have to know that.”

Part of me wanted to believe her, but I steeled myself. “You made it pretty clear I didn’t know you at all.”

“What do you mean? I loved you.”

Her expression made an emotion flare in me that I refused to acknowledge. “What evidence do you have to prove it?”

Her lush lips parted and her face twisted into a look which announced what I’d demanded wasn’t possible. “How do I prove that I loved you?”

Each time she said it, the words dug deeper into the spot where I’d stored away all my emotions about her. Ruby needed to be careful. I didn’t have as big of a temper as she did, but there was a lot of pain and anger hiding behind my front, and if it cracked, I might say something hurtful. There was no upside. It’d only make us both feel worse.

“Forget it.” I set my empty glass down on the table, no longer interested in the remaining alcohol in the bottle. Champagne had been a terrible choice to dull the senses.

“I don’t want to forget. I mean, for fuck’s sake, we almost had a threesome.”

For once, the steamy hot memory didn’t do anything to warm me, and my voice filled with ice. “Don’t you dare act like I pushed you into that. We both know who instigated it, and besides, all it does is support the argument how I was just a fuck buddy to you.”

“No.” She planted herself before me, defiance etching her face. “No. I loved you. All that shit I said was lies, just a defense mechanism. It fucking destroyed me when you left.”

I closed my eyes and centered myself. She was an attorney, which meant she was smart and skilled enough to know how to persuade. She could shade the words just so, spinning and twisting until things were seen her way.

But I was an attorney, too, which meant I was immune. Clever words or, God forbid, tears, weren’t going to shock me into seeing anything other than the facts.

“You didn’t seem too destroyed later that night,” I said.

Panic visibly poured through her. “What are you talking about?”

“After your voicemail, I lost it. I packed up my shit and drove off because I was so angry. I wasn’t thinking. Hell, I got a speeding ticket in Indiana and almost got arrested when I ran my mouth at the cop.” I’d been lucky to avoid jail. “By the time I hit Pennsylvania, I’d cooled off enough, and I called you to explain what happened. To apologize for leaving.”

Ruby went cold. “You did?”