God I Hate that Man

“Why do I need to tell you what it is? It’s not like we’re married yet and you can order me around.”

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t the Victorian times and even if it were, I can’t even imagine ordering you, of all people around,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work. Ashley just keeps staring at the window.

I sigh loudly. “Well, if I’ve upset you somehow, I’m sorry. But we both know the apology would be a little more genuine if I knew what I was actually apologizing for.”

Ashley finally turns to look at me. She doesn’t look angry. She looks resigned, like she knows she has to say this, but she really doesn’t want to. “Fine, I’ll tell you. Things between us, they got a little complicated, didn’t they? And that’s not what either of us wanted. I’m not blaming you Finn, and you don’t owe me an apology. This is my issue not yours, so I’ll find a way to get over it. We talked and we both agreed we could see whomever we wanted to, and that’s okay. I’m not angry. But I don’t want to be just another one of your women.”

“I don’t understand.” I’m genuinely confused as to what the hell she’s talking about. She’s making it sound like I’m suddenly fucking half of the women in the city or something.

“I thought I was okay with this being meaningless sex between us, but I’m not. I can’t cope with the thought of you fucking her and then coming home and fucking me. I’m sorry if you think that makes me petty, but that’s the way it’s got to be. Do you understand?”

“I understand the sentiment, but I’ve got no idea where this is coming from, or who this ‘her’ you’re talking about is.”

“Janette, of course,” Ashley spits.

I move to the bed and sit down beside Ashley. She stiffens slightly but she doesn’t move away and I take that as a good sign. “Where did this come from? Because I’m not sleeping with Janette. Hell, I haven’t properly dated anyone in years. Work just got in the way of all of that stuff. I never met anyone special enough for me to leave the office early for, and as you can imagine, any girl I did try to date got pretty pissed off about me cancelling on them for work stuff all the time. So in the end, I just stopped bothering. I’ve had a few one night stands, but the last one was months before I met you,” I admit honestly.

“And you expect me to believe that?” Ashley asks quietly.

“Honestly Ashley, I don’t much care one way or the other. It’s the truth and you can choose to believe it or you can choose to be a cynic and assume the worst of me. I’m not going to beg you to believe me, because as you say, our deal didn’t prohibit me from doing what I wanted with other women so I have no reason to lie to you, or beg you to believe me.”

Ashley goes quiet for a moment while she thinks this through. “I want to believe you, Finn. But it’s kind of hard after yesterday. Girls don’t lose their earrings in cars unless they’ve been fucking in them,” she remarked.

“Nice way of putting it.” I grin. “And you’re right. Janette did lose her earring while fucking in the car, but it wasn’t me she was fucking. She’s Lester’s wife.”

“Who is Lester?” Ashley asks.

“One of my drivers,” I explain. “She came for the earring herself because Lester refused to ask me. He assumed he would be fired when I worked out how Janette lost an earring in the backseat of my car.”

“Why didn’t he just get it himself and not involve you at all?” Ashley asked.

“Because I had already found it. I knew it must be hers, but he refused to admit it was Janette’s. I was waiting for him to own up. I rate honestly very highly in my staff. I had it in the office safe, so I took her back to the office and gave it to her.”

“You were gone so long though,” Ashley points out.

“Yeah, I wasn’t finished working. Next time I need to work late, I’ll be sure to ask your permission,” I point out, getting a little tired of having to explain myself.

“God, I’m sorry, Finn. I’m such an idiot,” Ashley said, shaking her head. “I should just have talked to you about it. Or better yet, just minded my own damn business.”

“Let’s face it, I didn’t exactly handle Alan any better than you handled Lester’s wife,” I admit.

She laughs softly. “I guess we’re both much too stubborn to just actually ask the hard questions.”

“Or maybe we were both afraid of the answers.”

“You know, for a guy who doesn’t date, you seem to have all of the right answers,” she remarks softly.