Derek gave a subtle shake of his head. “That’s not true, and you know it.”
“No, I do know it. Catherine and I were happily married…well, I thought we were…and then this happens? Never in my life did I imagine I would end up here, some bitter asshole who’s been divorced before he’s even thirty. With an ex-wife who’s already getting remarried. Nothing means anything. Nothing is forever. Promises break. People lie. People will wait for the moment you turn around and stab you in the back—”
“Emerson would never do that to me.” Derek got to his feet then came close to me, looking at me with a hard expression the way Dad did. “Never, ever, ever. She will keep her promises to me, she will be by my side every single day until I’m gone, and when my back is turned, she’ll take any knife that was meant for me.” His eyes shifted back and forth as he stared me down. “I’m sorry this happened to you. It hurts me like hell to see you like this, to know this woman hurt my little brother when he didn’t deserve it, but other women aren’t like Catherine. There are women out who are tougher than men, who would love you until it hurt, who would be loyal to you even if you were disloyal to them, who will love you when your youth fades because they’ve fallen in love with your soul, not just your face.”
I dropped my gaze and stared at the floor.
“Catherine was a mistake. But the next one won’t be.”
I gave a subtle shake of my head.
“Don’t let this affect your happiness with Sicily. Don’t do what I did to Emerson. She loved me enough to forgive me, but I’ll always regret the way I hurt her, the way I hurt my daughter, the way I spat on the unbelievable beauty of our relationship. Don’t be me, brother.”
I stepped away, my gaze never meeting his. “I’ve got to go.”
“Dex—”
“I said, I’ve got to go.”
I canceled everything for the next day.
I was scheduled at the research center and had a couple virtual follow-up appointments, but I axed them all. I told Sicily through a text message, telling her I was sick and too unwell to get to work.
Feel better. I’m happy to bring you anything you might need.
I never responded.
I spent the day on my couch, staring at the ceiling, going over every memory, every conversation, reevaluating every fight we had. Did she ever love me? Was she ever happy? Was I just a trophy and I was blinded by her beauty, so I didn’t notice?
Was I just a fucking idiot?
I rummaged in the fridge and snacked on junk food because I was too unmotivated to cook anything. I walked into my closet a couple times and looked at the box that contained that picture frame and a few other keepsakes. I was too tempted to throw it out the window and right onto the street.
But I couldn’t do it.
A knock sounded on the door.
I returned to the living room and stared at it, knowing I didn’t want to see whoever was on the other side.
Another knock. “Dex, it’s me. I brought you some soup.”
She was the person I wanted to see least. I stayed quiet, hoping she would assume I was sleeping and just leave.
But then she put her key in the door.
I knew she came and went when I was at work, but she’d never just helped herself into my apartment before, my personal space, and it pissed me the fuck off.
The second she opened the door, I came at her. “This is my apartment. This is my space. You can’t just barge in here whenever the fuck you feel like it.”
She was so shocked by what I said that she dropped the bag she’d brought, a container of soup, some ice cream, and a takeout box of food. She immediately bent down to pick it up, glancing at me with a flustered expression. “I’m sorry. I just thought—”
“You have a key for professional reasons, not so you can just barge in here whenever you feel like it. Don’t do it again.”
She had returned everything to the bag, but she was still on the floor, looking up at me with a mixture of hurt and shock. “I…I’m sorry. I assumed you were asleep, and I could just leave this for you in the fridge.” She slowly got to her feet, still holding the bag, her eyes shifting back and forth as she regarded my ice-cold gaze.
I grabbed the bag from her hands and set it on the counter. “Thanks…”
She continued to stand there, like a deer in the headlights. “Dex—”
“You can go. I think I am going to take that nap—”
“But you aren’t sick.”
I didn’t even bother to pretend because it slipped my mind. I stayed in the kitchen and crossed my arms over my chest, looking at the floor for a while because I didn’t want to look at her frightened expression anymore.