Ex Games

“Eighteen.”

“Fuck you!” I screamed. I was wild, unhinged. “Don’t you fucking dare act like this is hurting you, this is hurting me. This is humiliating me. I believed you. I believed everything you said. That you’d never hurt me again, that you loved me – ”

“I do love you, Lara, please just fucking listen to me for a second,” Jackson pleaded firmly. Tears blurred my vision as he held me tight. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want it to count like that, Lara. That night two years ago – that was the year the fund had that fucking disastrous January, we were down three percent, I was stressed the fuck out and I didn’t want you to see me looking like a wreck at home so I booked a hotel room to just cool off for a few hours. All I wanted was to smoke without you getting mad at me. And before I could even get to my room, I ran into Gabrielle and her friends in the bar downstairs. They were all drunk, they started flirting with me and I – fuck, I don’t know, I thought they were all twenty-one since they were drinking!”

“Please!” I fought out of Jackson’s grip to wipe the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. “Like that makes it any better that you fucked her that night!”

“I didn’t fuck her that night, Lara! I… I got drunk, okay? I was stressed out, I had just spent millions of dollars renovating the apartment for us and suddenly business fucking nosedived. So I got drunk and I let her flirt with me and I… let her come up to my room. We drank together, we talked together, and we…”

“If you didn’t fuck, what did you do?” I demanded. Jackson’s jaw flexed. My lip curled at his stone expression – like he was preparing for my wrath. My heart slammed against my ribcage. “What did you do, Jackson?”

“I let her suck my cock.”

“You son of a bitch!” I thrashed against him, pained cries escaping my throat as he gripped my forearms, trying to hold me still.

“I’m sorry, Lara, it meant nothing, I swear to fucking Christ! I barely remember that night,” Jackson rasped as I fought him. “I’m sorry. I wish we could pretend this never fucking happened.”

“How?” I screamed, tearing myself away from him. “How do I know you aren’t lying again? How do I know it meant nothing if you did it again later? How am I going to marry you when you have no idea what you’ve done to me? I can’t even begin to describe the hurt right now, the – ” The knot in my throat stole my last words. Tears drowned my eyes as I stood there, speechless, too wounded to fight. Though when Jackson tried to come near me, I pushed him back. When he tried again – I shoved him harder.

“What can I do, Lara?” he asked, desperate. “What can I do? If you tell me what to do to make it right, I’ll do it. Okay? I’ll do it because I need you, Lara, you’re my wife.”

“I’m not your fucking wife,” I spat. Jackson stepped back and put his hand on his stomach, as if my words had speared him there. He was quiet for a second, his blue eyes clouded with anguish.

“Do you want to leave me?” he finally asked.

Yes, I wanted to answer. But instead, I glared with contempt for two seconds before crumbling to the floor, sobbing. I wanted to leave and I didn’t. I loved him and I didn’t. I had no idea what to do. But as I imagined my life without Jackson, I felt my heart become a cold, heavy rock in my chest. It felt like it had stopped beating.

“I don’t want to leave you. But I don’t know how I’ll forgive you,” I muttered. Out of tears, my dead stare bore into the ground. “We’ll love each other again like we always do but there’s always going to be a dark hole that’ll never be filled because I’ll never understand why you did what you did.” I looked up at him, wanting to hurt him with my next words. “I know you love me, Jackson. But you don’t love me as much as I thought you did.”

A dark satisfaction spread through my chest as I watched him wipe his eyes before any tears could fall. He shook his head, his mouth parted as he tried to speak but came up empty. We stared at each other in silence for a full minute before he found his words. “I would die for you, Lara,” he finally said.

Please, I wanted to say, but instead, tears sprung to my eyes, my body remembering the night of the intruder before my brain would. It was no lie. Jackson would die for me. He almost did. Lip trembling, my eyes dropped to his ribs, where he had been stabbed. Feeling myself soften, I repeated the words that would remind me why I was angry. “You’ll never know how I feel.”

“I can,” Jackson immediately offered.

My face contorted. “How?” I demanded.

Jackson drew a deep breath. He ran a hand down his face and sat at the edge of the bed. “It was just sex,” he said into his hands. “If you had sex with someone besides me, you’d get it too. You’d fuck him but in the end, you’d still love me.”

I stared, unblinking. I couldn’t possibly be hearing what I thought I was. “What are you saying right now, Jackson? Are you telling me to have sex with somebody to get back at you?”

With a look of resignation on his face, Jackson looked up at me and said, “Yes.”

Chapter Ten

There were rules involved with our deal.

The next morning, when our eyes were dry and the offer was still on the table, I accepted. I showered and got dressed for my day while Jackson sat up in bed. I imagined that he stayed there for the next few hours, pained as he drew up the terms of our agreement.

After several bridal appointments with Sloane, we went for dinner in SoHo. We were on dessert when Jackson called. I excused myself to the bathroom to answer.

“It can’t be any of the guys,” he said before I could even say hello. “My friends. Their friends. Their employees. Anyone who runs in the circle or has anything to do with it. Find someone who has nothing to do with my friends, fuck him and tell me when it’s over.”

I was quiet for a second, letting it all sink in. “What, just once?” I asked, my voice hard. It was Jackson’s turn for silence. I could practically hear him gritting his teeth.

“Do you really need it more than once?” he finally asked.

“You did.”