Tied to His Betrayal (Dirty Little Secrets 2)

“You know”—I think over all that’s gone on since I came home, and I smile—“I think for the first time, yeah, I’m okay.”

“Do you need anything? Money?”

In that department, things are better. And I did have Darius to thank for that. I still owe him, but not paying interest will help pay it down far faster. I realize I have a lot to be thankful for when it comes to Darius. He’s made things better for me, without ever asking for a single thing. I can’t ever forget that, I tell myself. “I’m fine. Things are good. Promise.”

“Okay, that’s good.” I can see he wants to hug me. It’s written all over his face.

I step in closer and throw my arms around him. “Take care of you.”

He presses his face into my neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

I feel his tears and even sense mine welling up too, but I can’t pay attention to them. I can’t get sucked back in. This time is my time. I realize, right here, I kept thinking that I didn’t want to depend on men anymore. But I realize I had been thinking all wrong.

It had nothing to do with men.

I just need to depend on me.

Without saying anything more, I release my arms, taking one last deep inhale of his citrusy cologne, and I walk away. My heart feels lighter with each step I take. Because this time, his darkness didn’t touch me. I still love the same. I can still forgive. But I’m still me coming out of all this. And as I exit the bar and feel the warm sun against my face, I exhale, freeing years of tension.

Darius

Later that night, I’m standing outside Taylor’s front door, torn between wanting to be here and knowing I shouldn’t come anywhere near her. At least, not right now. The fabric of my world is slowly being ripped apart strand by strand. I’m not thinking straight and I don’t know what’s true and what’s not, and I can’t allow—and won’t—allow Taylor to get caught up in the cross fire.

Please come. I need you.

But when her text arrived, my feet moved me here to her, forcing me closer, even if my head isn’t in the right space to be of any comfort to Taylor tonight. She deserves me at my best, and my tight chest and foggy head remind me how far I am from solid tonight.

I knock once and hear her soft, sweet voice call out to me, yanking me forward on instinct alone. I ache to be near her. There’re so many things I want to say. I open the door, finding her sitting on the couch, legs up, arms wrapped around them. I can’t see her face, even though the full moon is beaming through the window and casting a soft glow into the room, lighting up her silhouette.

There’re no sounds.

There’s no movement.

It’s just me, her, and the dark, cold space between us.

I take a step forward, when her shaky voice stops me. “No. Please don’t come any closer.”

I’m frozen at the desolate tenor of her voice, waiting for her to explain. Something is clearly wrong, but right now, I’m not able to help her. Fuck it, I can barely help myself. My head’s not on straight enough to push aside my shit to help her deal with hers.

The longer the silence continues, the more I realize I’m the one who needs to explain. Charlotte told me Taylor had come to my office today looking for me, but I hadn’t been able to see her. I didn’t want her to see me broken, not when she needs me to be her strength. “About today—”

“You shut me out,” she says.

“I did,” I acknowledge, cautious of saying the wrong thing now.

“I texted you an hour ago and said I needed you.”

“And I’m here.”

Not soon enough, echoes in the icy air around me.

She also doesn’t need to tell me that. I can feel her disappointment descending over me like a heavy and thick cloud, stealing the air. But I don’t know how to give her what she’s asking me for. I don’t know how to love her up close, like Allie had suggested. I don’t know how to tell her that today the world as I knew it flipped on its axis, and I’m not sure what’s real and what isn’t. I have no idea how to tell her that I’m spiraling, because that’s weakness. And I’m not weak. I’m never weak.

“You shut me out,” she repeats, as if she needs to be reminded why she’s feeling rejected.

I have no reply. I did that. And I’ve done so much worse to her. She remains in the shadows, and it’s killing me not to see her face. Though I see the way her body stiffens. That’s when I realize my silence is worse than any terrible answer I can give her.

My lips part to say something, which she doesn’t notice and continues, “I don’t know why I always do this. Why it’s so hard for me to break this habit? I lean on men I shouldn’t. I fall back into this same trap that I can’t ever free myself from.”