The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs 2)

“I’m not pointing a loaded gun at our son’s chest!”

“Is that what I am now? A goddamn loaded gun?”

“That’s what this relationship has the potential to be. I freaked. It was wrong, and I’m sorry. I am truly sorry, I should’ve talked it through with you. But Dante—”

“Stop hiding behind our son! This is about you and your shit. Your trust issues. Your fucking baggage. It has nothing to do with him! This is about us! Our relationship outside of our son.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. There is no relationship outside of him! There never will be. Every word we say, every decision we make, all of it affects him.”

“There’s an us in there too, Clarissa, but you wouldn’t even give me a fucking chance to defend myself because you’ve deemed yourself judge, jury and executioner, always ready to pass a fucking sentence when I’ve been nothing but transparent with you.”

“It was wrong to shut down like I did, but Troy, that was my worst fear come to life. It shook me to my core. And I did doubt you, and I was terrified to admit it because of how well things were going, but I haven’t just been sitting here picking you apart in my mind. I’ve been working too—”

“Yeah, working hard, been busy lying to me.”

“Who told you I was lying?”

“Our son. Why don’t you want me feeling guilty?”

“What?” I’m visibly shaking, and he sees it.

“Who’s your work friend?”

“When you left for camp, I ran into some financial trouble. I didn’t want to put any more pressure on you, so I took a job waiting tables for quick cash and decided to aim for something a little more long-term, more lucrative. I’ve been studying to get my realtor’s license, and Brett let me intern—”

“Brett, as in your ex-boyfriend? You called your ex-boyfriend for help?”

“It’s not like that. I’ve been working with one of his top realtors while studying for the exam.”

“And you didn’t think this was something you should let me in on?”

“Absolutely, but not when you were under so much pressure. The week you left for camp; I got two flat tires, my car broke down, my rent check bounced, and then the fridge went out. I spent my whole tax return fixing it all. Things got tight. I was terrified. It was a wake-up call. I had to do something!”

“So, you call on another fucking man!?”

“I did whatever it took to make sure our son had a roof over his head! You inspired me, so I stepped up. This isn’t about Brett! This is about me not depending on—”

“Me! Not depending on me! Because you still don’t fucking trust me!”

“You weren’t here! I had to make shit happen. Relying on someone else is not something I’m used to. It’s been that way my whole life! I had to do something! I had to—”

“You had to trust me. That’s all you had to do,” he says, scooping up his duffle.

“Troy, I’m sorry. I overreacted. I am sorry. You deserved better. I was planning on talking to you wh

en you got home.”

“You weren’t there for me when I needed you most. Just for once, couldn’t you put my feelings, my needs before yours?”

“That’s all I’ve been doing!”

“The answer is no. You couldn’t. And so, I sent a dick pic to your best friend.”

“What?”

“Did you two laugh it up?” He spits in utter disgust.

“Jesus, no. Of course not, I had no idea. I’m going to kill her. Troy—”