Despite her instinctive reaction to the situation being “What a cheating shithead,” she couldn’t help but feel like there was something else going on. What? She had no idea. But things just didn’t sit right with her, at all. She knew AJ.
Or so I thought.
The AJ I know loves me, I’m sure of it – aren’t I? He behaves like he does. Or did. I mean, people who love you don’t run off and marry someone else, right? Damnit, AJ, you’re making me question just about everything I’ve ever thought true about us. The AJ I know would realize I’ve gone home to Ireland and hop the next flight he could. He’d say, “Screw the expense.”
What about the team? His games? They need him. Would he really abandon them to come after me?
Screw the fact I might not listen to what he has to say, or even give him the chance to explain. The AJ I know – or at least I think I know, would drop his life and fly across the world to win back the girl. Christ, Lisa. Listen to yourself. This isn’t Disney.
Ugh.
But he would. Her inner voice persisted. She knew they’d never really defined their “relationship” out loud. They were waiting until they stood face to face to make it “officially official,” but something in her gut wouldn’t quit. She was convinced beyond rational explanation that he’d hop two planes to cross the Atlantic to explain whatever the hell was going on. Assuming that was how things would go, she realistically had some time before his plane touched down – assuming he got the next flight out of Alabama – though she really needed to compose herself.
She needed to prepare what she was going to say, and run it over in her mind. In order to do that, she needed to figure out how she even felt first. And how she'd feel if she was wrong and he didn't show up.
Betrayed. Mainly, very, very betrayed.
She lay on her bed, for how long, she had no idea. She put on a Matt Nathanson CD and cried some more. The internet made her cry. Talking to people made her cry. Her phone made her cry. Thinking of him made her cry. Looking through the few pictures she had of them together made her cry. It seemed that no matter what she did, she cried. She didn’t want to cry any more. She wanted to be mad. She was mad. She cried some more.
Jerk.
She sat in silence trying to sort through her feelings. She felt hurt, betrayed and confused. She was angry and embarrassed. She felt like his whole hockey team must have been laughing at her behind her back. Then she began to rationalize. Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems? She just wanted to understand. There has to be a reasonable explanation, right?
Her head kicked at her heart; the voice of reason prevailed.
What are you thinking? You idiot! You’re contemplating forgiving him, aren’t you? Even if he says he loves her and he lied… Damn. You FOOL. You really love him, don’t you?
Bollocks.
What do you think could happen here? Sister-wives? Polygamy is illegal, Lis. And you felt pangs of jealousy from seeing her underwear lying around her own house. You really think you could share your man?
Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. You should have paid more heed to Chelsea’s hockey-boy history. Never fall for a hockey player – they’re all jerks! I can’t believe she was right. I so wanted to believe she was wrong, that she was just so hurt and bitter about her ex, that they couldn’t possibly all be like him.
She knew her friend’s warnings about falling for a hockey boy were, for the most part, in good humor. But with Chelsea, having been burned by a cheating hockey player she thought she was going to marry, there was always that unspoken glint of “don’t do what I did, please be careful,” in her friend’s eyes. She’d thought that, despite hockey players’ reputations for being “players”, AJ was different. She knew that Chelsea thought he was different too, otherwise she wouldn’t have introduced Lisa to him at all. That, or she didn’t expect things to go as far as they did between Lisa and AJ. Maybe she thought he was a jerk but we’d just chat as friends and nothing more?
He is a jerk. I thought he was different.
Sure, aren’t they all different when it comes to the one you fall for?
Mad. Let’s get back to mad, Lisa.
Incredibly mad.
She buried her face in her pillow. Her head and heart were trying to reconcile their views on this shitty situation.
It felt impossible.
She fell asleep in turmoil, jetlag really not helping her cloudy mind. She woke a few hours later, to the knock on the door. Glancing at the clock, her stomach dropped, as she suspected it was him.
Her dad answered the door, “Hello,” he greeted the stranger.
“Hi,” he paused. Suspicion confirmed. He’s probably waiting for dad to punch him in his pretty boy face, she thought. “Is Lisa home?” he enquired politely.
Yes, I AM home, AJ, and I don’t want to see you right now. I’m not ready. So, if you could just bugger the hell off until I sort out this avalanche of emotions, that’d be –
“Hold on and I’ll get her for you.”
DAD! You traitorous, traitorous man! I’m not ready!
She realized she hadn’t actually told her parents she didn’t want to talk to the ruggedly handsome, stubborn American stranger who could potentially appear at their front door sometime that day.
Shit. She cursed herself silently. Note to self, next time I run away from the cheating, married, internet-boyfriend, at least tell the parents that I don’t want visitors!
“Lisa?” her dad called up the stairs.
“Yeah?” she struggled to keep her voice “normal”.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
“Yeah.”
She could hear confusion in her father’s voice. She knew they hadn’t expected her home so quickly; she’d barely said a word to either of her parents, feigning jetlag and needing sleep, and now a strange boy was at the door asking for her, mere hours after she’d hit the ground. Dads aren’t stupid creatures; she knew he was doing wicked-fast mental math and adding two and two together to quickly come up with “This boy somehow hurt my girl.”
She descended the stairs slowly, mainly because she was afraid she’d miss one and go on her arse. She looked like crap. Her hair needed washing and she was wearing sweats and a hoodie. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she avoided both of their stares, tried to ignore her racing heart, and said, “Hi”.
“Hi,” he replied glumly. “Can we talk?”
No. No. No. No.
“Sure,” she replied. Her mind was screaming “no”, but her parents were watching, and, seeing him standing there in front of her, she couldn’t find it within her to send him back to Alabama. She needed to know. Once and for all, she needed the truth.
Smiling weakly to her parents, she said, “I’ll be back later. By the way, this is AJ. He’s flown all the way from America because we had a fight, and I’m guessing he wants to apologize for being an arse.”
Before they could answer, she slammed the door behind her, leaving them staring with dumbfounded curiosity at them, out the window. Taking a deep breath, she followed him down the steps. This is it, she told herself. Make or break.
Chapter 13
Break.
Break his bloody face for lying to me.
Calm down, Lis. Breathe.
When they got to the bottom of the steps, Lisa saw AJ’s hire car sitting there. She had no idea how he’d managed to organize everything, she thought perhaps his lawyer-mom’s PA had helped. Either way, it was just as well, as she didn’t want to walk and talk, and it wasn’t exactly warm, so a car came in handy. Especially with this kind of stuff. Stuff that would make her cry. In silence, they got into the car.
“Where to?” he asked quietly. She still wouldn’t look at him directly.
“Just drive. I’ll direct you when you get out of here.”
“K.”
She took him to a secluded area of land fairly close to home. The views were breathtaking, and there was no chance they’d be interrupted. It was quiet and serene. Sh
e, however, was not. At all. At least being here guaranteed that she could shout and scream should she need to. He’d tried a number of times to start a conversation, he’d tried to say he was sorry about twelve times between the house and here. Each time though, she’d just said, “Not yet,” without looking at him.
He pulled the car into the lane and turned off the ignition. She sat staring out the window, as she still couldn’t stand to look at him and she was struggling, once again, to hold back her tears.
Breathe, she reminded herself. She was heartbroken and really didn’t want things to end with him. But she knew in her heart she couldn’t be in a relationship with an already married man.
Society kinda frowns on that.
That’s the only thing stopping you from being in a relationship with a married man? Society?
Reality check needed here, Lisa.
“I’m so sorry, Lis,” he began.
She stayed silent, turned to look at him, glaring and let him talk.
“Britt and I have been best friends for life…you know I was born in the USA but spent most of my childhood in Canada. We were neighbors and I met her on my first day at my school. I spilled chocolate milk all over my shirt at lunch, and she happened to have a spare in her backpack. It had a sparkly pink frog on it, I think? I didn’t care and she liked that about me. Anyway, we were immediate best friends. We’ve been side by side ever since. When I moved back home for high school, we were both devastated. We visited each other, turnabout, as often as we could. When I stayed for college at UAH, she was less than thrilled. She wanted to come to the US for college too, not just because of me – I saw that look, Lis – Really, there’s never been anything romantic between us. Honestly, we’re just really good friends.”
He took a breath and continued his explanation. She remained silent, not meeting his gaze.
“She wanted to be closer to me, sure, but UAH wasn’t the only college she applied to. And despite being so friendly, she’s actually pretty quiet, and keeps to herself. Anyway, so now Britt’s nearly out of school and she’s not a U.S. resident. She can’t live and work permanently in the U.S. where she really wants to be. She’s also my mom’s best friend’s daughter. We get along well. Our personalities clicked from the get-go. We’ve had maybe one actual argument in our entire lives, even though we don’t really have much in common either. We don’t like the same food, the same hobbies, the same music. What is it you always say about you and your sister? Chalk and cheese. We are like chalk and cheese.
At the bar one night she got drunk and started crying about how she was staring down the barrel of deportation. One of the team jokingly suggested she and I get hitched to let her stay. She looked so hopeful. She knew I wasn’t really even looking for a girlfriend, and it would obviously just be for a couple years. She never asked me outright, she didn’t have to. She’s my best friend. I’d do anything for her. And you and me? I wasn’t really sure what we were. It never occurred to me I'd develop actual feelings for a girl on the internet.
Slap a ring in there and call it love and marriage.
Except it’s not a real marriage. It’s enough to pull her through until we’re both out of grad school, and, hopefully, enough to convince the government to give her what she needs. Lis, I never set out with the intention of hurting you. I just wanted someone friendly to talk to and maybe even get a little flirty with. I cried on my wedding night because I was falling for you, and I knew that even if things didn’t work out with you, I was going to be trapped in a marriage of convenience for years. It was a huge self-sacrifice, yes. But I also felt there was something potentially serious between you and me and I really wanted the freedom to pursue that.
I understand if you never want to talk to me again. Hell, I’d probably never want to talk to me again if I was you. But I needed to explain things to your face. You’re probably sitting there thinking what bullshit I’m spouting, but it’s the truth and it’s all I got. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you, Lisa, but I did. I really didn't think things would ever get so far that I'd need to tell you and then you came to visit and we really hit it off, and I just…I didn't know what to say.”
His voice got quiet as he took a breath and looked at her, “I don’t know what you’re thinking…” He trailed off and she could tell he was struggling. So was she.
Tears were flowing freely now, and she didn’t try to stop them. Her gaze fixed firmly out the window, she began softly,
“You should have told me, AJ.”
“I know.”
“No, AJ. You don’t know. You have no idea how it felt to be told that you were married, by your teammate! How embarrassed and humiliated I feel. How stupid and naïve it made me feel. How deeply hurt and betrayed. You lied to me. Relationships are built on trust, none more so than an online relationship. I trusted you. I trusted you and you lied to me. You should have told me!” she repeated, her voice getting increasingly more shrill.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, “I was afraid you wouldn’t understand…”
“That wasn’t your call to make, AJ. You should have given me all the information and let me decide how to deal with it. I knew something was off, and I couldn’t put my finger on what. I thought I was crazy. We’d talked about so much that I was absolutely sure that you’d be honest with me no matter what. You thought I wouldn’t understand? Well, I guess I kind of don’t, she’s Canadian – it’s pretty friggin’ easy for her to get a visa for the U.S. without marrying you. But AJ, I love you! I’ve spent every minute since I found out that the woman whose underwear was drying on your radiator is actually your WIFE and who probably even walks around in her damn underwear, trying to hate you, trying to resign myself to us never talking again. Don’t you get it? I can’t. You’re a part of me now.”
They sat talking it out for hours. She cried. She yelled. He cried. They cried together. They hugged. They talked some more. She yelled at him for lying. She told him she wasn’t sure she could ever get over this, but she agreed to at least try. She offered him the opportunity to bare any more skeletons to her, here and now.
No more lies.
I really need to get better at trusting my gut. I knew there was something off when I met her and I thought I was just being paranoid.
Except you didn’t really. You just ignored it.
It was getting late. Her tummy rumbled and she realized that neither of them had eaten for hours. Feeling a lot better having talked it out, she made a mental note to have a long chat with Britt, too. Just to make sure things were definitely ok – not that she didn’t believe him, but just to cover all bases and be on the safe side.
It's not a real marriage, she thought trying to reassure her still-fluttery stomach. It’s a fake-marriage. A marriage of convenience. A sham marriage. That’s totally a real thing. I’ve read about those kinds of marriages before. It’s not a real marriage. You’re not a home-wrecker. Breathe.
She didn’t really know what all of this meant for them. He was married, for the next few years at least. She understood that they had to convince the government that it was legit enough for Britt to get her citizenship and residency sorted out. Which meant that if she and AJ progressed in that direction, she couldn’t marry him herself until it was all sorted. Am I ok with that? She wondered. It’s that, or lose him forever. But do I want to marry someone who lied to me about something so huge? People marrying for a visa, a legal avenue to stay in the country so they didn’t get deported, his story was plausible. Convincing. It sounded legitimate. Britt certainly didn’t behave like a normal wife. And Lisa agreed that her having a boyfriend, was, in fact, bizarre, if they really were married, but also figured that sometimes people have open marriages and both parties can sleep with who they want. They agreed that she’d take some time to process everything. She could ask whatever questions she needed to, both he, and Britt would be completely forthcoming from here on in.
No more lies.
She felt a little better. She also f
elt hungry.
“Wanna grab dinner?” he asked, as though reading her thoughts.
“You read my mind!” she told him smiling.
“How does Olive Garden sound? I know you love their breadsticks.”
“AJ, we don’t have Olive Garden here.” She turned to face him, “Oh. You mean, go back?”
He nodded.
“If you want to, that is. I don’t mind staying here for a while. But if we stay, I need to go shopping, I didn’t bring anything with me. If you come back to the states, you don’t have to stay with me, you can go back to the hotel. Chelsea is worried about you, Ana feels terrible, even Jeremy feels bad. No one else knows you flew back here, but everyone is pissed at me, so it would totally be a fun trip for you!”
“You deserve to have everyone pissed at you, especially me,” she began. “We’ll stop for takeaway on the way home. I’ll tell my parents not to cook, we’ll eat with them so they can meet you properly, and then we can fly back, together, deal?”
“Sure, on one condition…”
“Whoa there, mister. You really think you’re in a position to be making conditions?” she challenged as he started to back the car out of the lane.
“My condition is,” he continued undeterred, “no more running away. No matter how much you hate me, or how angry you are. No matter how badly you wanna kick my ass. You stay put. We talk. You throw stuff at me. We scream, we shout, we cry – but we try to work it out together. Ok?”
She nodded, chewing her lip.
“Promise?” he asked her sadly, his eyes still glistening with tears.
“I promise,” she answered firmly.
They ate dinner with her parents. She contemplated concocting some fabricated argument the two of them had that caused her to flee so quickly back to the comfort of the Emerald Isle – her parents likely wouldn’t believe her, but they didn’t really have to. She and AJ had cleared the air and that was all they really needed to know. Instead, however, she opted for telling them the truth, which went down better than it might have, probably because her parents had chosen not to marry, despite being together for thirty years. They saw the commitment as more important than a piece of paper.
Intimate Strangers (The Lisa Millar Series Book 1) Page 7
