Every Time I Fall (Orchid Valley 3)

I snort. “I didn’t need a guy to do that. I grew up a chubby girl in twenty-first-century America.”

She frowns. “I hear you, but I think there’s more.” She leans forward. “You can’t ask me to fix you like some high-priced shrink and then hold out on me.”

I shift in my chair. “I guess I’m carrying some baggage from my first—and only—serious relationship.” Every time Cody comes up in conversation, I just want to disappear. “Well, he and I were together in college—before I dropped out.” I hate that this is my college story, that I was that girl who was cruising right along but couldn’t cope anymore once her boyfriend broke up with her. I failed out of every class but one that last semester, and I had to decide if I wanted to retake those classes to get my GPA back up or if I just wanted to go home.

At that point, the idea of seeing Cody on campus with other girls sounded miserable. I was homesick and questioning everything about myself, and I didn’t want to be there anymore.

“We were together a couple of years,” I say. “I really thought we’d end up married, you know? I was so madly in love with him, and—” I swallow, feeling the tears pricking the back of my eyes.

“And he broke your heart,” she says.

“Not exactly a unique story, is it?”

“Not on the most basic level. But every story has its nuances, and I feel like there’s more to yours?”

I nod. “He didn’t just break up with me. He cheated on me.”

“Asshole.”

I smile, appreciating her solidarity whether I deserve it or not. “I found out from a friend, and when I confronted him about it, instead of being contrite, he was defensive. He felt like I should be able to forgive him the occasional transgression, as he put it, because he was out of my league.”

“The fuck?”

I bow my head. “And he was. He was kind of a heavier guy when we started dating, and pretty shy, but a few months into our relationship, he started lifting weights and eating this really regimented diet, and he got . . .” I laugh. “I always thought he was cute, but his new muscles gave him confidence—swagger—and the girls on campus noticed. He noticed them noticing.”

“That hardly made him out of your league,” Layla says.

I shrug. I never tell this story. One, because I don’t particularly like reliving it. But also because my friends are all so thin and beautiful, and I don’t think they have any idea what it’s like to have your appearance be the reason your relationships fall apart. “After I found out he was cheating, he told me he loved me, that he cared about me, but he wasn’t attracted to me and never had been. As much as he liked spending time with me, he had this other part of himself that needed . . . release.”

“What an ass. So he laid it all on you?”

“Me and his dad. Everything was his dad’s fault in his mind.”

“Abusive?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No, just absent. He didn’t have a male role model and used that as an excuse for so much.” I roll my eyes. “He said he’d only started dating me because he didn’t think he could do any better, and then by the time he realized he could, he didn’t want to hurt me by breaking up. He had this whole speech about how physical attraction is instinctive and guys just can’t make themselves lust after girls like me.”

“Oh, Abbi,” she says, cringing. “That’s awful. That’s why you assumed your date bailing had something to do with your appearance.”

I shrug. “It stands to reason.”

She shakes her head. “He messed you up good. How have you never told anyone this?”

“My brother knows the gist of it,” I say. “I poured my heart out to him when I dropped out of school. It was the only way he’d shut up about me needing to go back.”

She laughs. “And what did he say?”

My eyes feel hot when I think about Kace’s reaction to what Cody said to me. I’ve never seen him so angry. “After I convinced him not to go after Cody, he gave me this really awkward speech about how I am pretty and someday I’d find a guy who sees me as I am and doesn’t want to change a thing about me.” I shrug. “It was sweet, but he’s my brother, so I didn’t put too much stock in it.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Too bad, since he was right. What about your other friends? Do they know?”

I shake my head. “I can’t talk about this with them. Obviously I’m more comfortable talking about this with you.”

She frowns, and I snap my mouth shut. “Why is it easier to talk to me than friends you’ve had for years?”