Intercepted (Page 57)

My problem is he hid it from me. He left for New York knowing what the outcome was going to be and he didn’t tell me. Lies by omission are still lies.

And he knows.

He. Knows.

After the way things ended with Chris, sneaking and lying are absolute deal breakers. So either he didn’t think I deserved to know, he didn’t want me to know, or he didn’t think of me at all.

I thought we were partners. Yes, it’s a new relationship, but I thought we were headed someplace. I assumed we were on the same page.

Wrong yet again.

I turned off my phone after I read the ESPN alert and promptly called Brynn to let her know I need an evening to wallow in self-pity before I can go to work. I thought it was a good call. I haven’t cried, but I know if my dad calls asking questions or Gavin sends me a text, I will lose it. And I hate losing it.

When I feel like I have no control over anything around me, it’s very important for me to keep my emotions in check. Like each tear will water and sprout drama. Not showing emotion lets me keep the power. I refuse to give people the satisfaction of knowing they upset me.

I never thought I would have to shield myself from Gavin. But hey. What do I really know anyway? Apparently nothing.

* * *

• • •

    I’M LYING ON my couch, half drunk, half sugar high, and possibly infected with salmonella from the amount of raw cookie dough I’ve consumed, when Gavin uses the key to my apartment that I gave him.

Shit.

“Are you kidding me right now, Marlee? What’s wrong with you? Why is your phone off? I’ve been trying to call you for hours.”

I was planning on the silent treatment, but after he barges into my home acting like he’s the one who’s been wronged, I think, Eh. What the hell. Let’s set this shit on fire.

“Wow! Look who it is, ladies and gentlemen.” I stand up and start clapping. “The man of the hour. The king of New York, Gavin Pope. Setting records and getting paid, baby!”

I’ll fully admit to being on the excessive side of dramatic, but what can I say? When I commit, I fucking commit.

“What the hell, Marlee?” He flinches slightly, and his eyebrows furrow. “What’s your problem? I thought you’d be happy for me.”

Oh this mother-effer.

“I’m thrilled for you, Gavin. Why wouldn’t I be? My boyfriend got the contract of the century. He’s going to be moving across the country. He’s been lying to my face for the last month.” The pounding in my head and my chest have synchronized and I’m shaking so badly, I have to sit down before my legs give in and I fall to the ground. “I’m fuckin’ peachy.”

“That’s why you’re acting like this?” he asks incredulously. “You think I lied to you?”

“There’s no think to it, Gavin. You’ve been telling me since the end of the season you were coming back to the Mustangs. Today you signed a contract with New York. Lies.”

“I didn’t lie. I was trying to surprise you!” He’s raking his hands through his hair and he’s redder than I’ve ever seen him.

“Surprise me with what, exactly?”

“With New York! You were just telling me you wanted to move there and open your own business! Saying how you loved my house . . . my family. I thought you’d be happy to get away from Chris and all the bullshit that’s tainted our lives since I got here.”

“You can’t be serious.” I stare at him wide-eyed, and if I wasn’t so pissed off, I’d laugh. “Gavin! We were talking about a vacation when I said that, not a freaking relocation! What about my family? My job! You want me to up and leave all of that without you even talking to me about it?”

“We’ll figure it out. New York will be great for your career. I even called my real estate agent out there, she’s already trying to find you a spot for your storefront.” He starts pacing, his long legs making quick work of crossing my tiny space. “Come on, Marlee. Not only is this going to be good for you, this is the biggest deal of my entire life. Is it too much to expect my girlfriend to answer her phone or return a text?”

“IS IT TOO MUCH TO EXPECT MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND TO TELL ME HE’S MOVING ACROSS THE COUNTRY!” Dammit. He made me lose it. “Too much for you to tell me everything we’ve planned for the last month is total bullshit? Not to assume that I’ll follow you across the country like some puppy? That I don’t find out about the biggest deal of your life from the stupid ESPN app in a maternity store dressing room? Is that too hard for you?”

All of the color in his face drains and I think I’ve finally hit my mark when he starts to stutter a response. “Wh-what? Y-y-you? Maternity? You’re pregnant?”

“For fuck’s sake.” I roll my eyes to the heavens. “No, I’m not pregnant. Naomi is.”

“Oh thank god.” He exhales and pulls out one of the stools from my kitchen table.

“Nice, Gavin. Really freaking nice.” For some reason I can’t explain, his relief at learning I’m not pregnant stings almost as much as the lies.

Almost.

“What? You want to be pregnant?”

“No, but we aren’t talking about that now.” I’m not going there. He will not see the hurt. Anger? Fine. Sadness and hurt? #AllTheNope

“Then what are we talking about? This is ridiculous. I got the contract I’ve been waiting my entire life to get and I get to celebrate that with you. I’m sorry you found out the way you did, but this is a good thing.”

“Get out!” I rise to my feet again, my legs now feeling sturdy while it’s my mind that’s shaky. “I’m not doing this with you right now. You lied to me! You know how I feel about that.”

The telltale sting of tears is building behind my eyes, but I’ll be damned if I let them fall.

“You’re always comparing me to Chris,” he says quietly. “Always waiting for me to mess up.”

“I didn’t have to wait too long, did I?”

As soon as the words slip out of my mouth, I regret them. When I’m angry, I tend to go for the jugular with no regard as to what may come. And by the giant step back Gavin takes, I think this is one of those times.

“I guess you didn’t.” He rubs the back of his neck and turns toward my door. “I’m gonna get out of here for now and let the dust settle for a bit. But this isn’t over, not by a long shot. I’ll call you later.”

“Yup.” I fold my arms across my chest. Whether I’m trying to comfort myself or prevent them from reaching out toward Gavin, I’m not sure. “Bye.”

“Bye, Marlee,” he says to the door, not even giving me the common courtesy to look at me before he walks away.

Fine by me.

Except . . . when the door slams shut behind him, the tears I’ve been fighting so hard to keep away finally fall. I lean against the door, listening as his heavy footsteps fade away, praying he will stop and come back to me.

Instead, I hear the stairwell door slam shut.

I fall to the ground, letting the soul-wrenching sobs take over my body, allowing the noises that don’t even sound human escape.

And when I’m all cried out, I know what I need to do to protect myself.

Forty

We don’t talk again for the rest of the day.

Or the next day.

Or the day after that.