Victoria's Got a Secret

by HelenKay Dimon

  “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “And I know that, too. On some level. On the days when I’m not furious or frustrated.” His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he saw her clearly. Pain hovered on the mouth he had spent so much time kissing and loving.

  She didn’t say anything for more than a minute. Neither did he.

  As the house creaked from the wind blowing outside, she cleared her throat. “You should date other people.”

  “I have been.”

  Her head snapped back. “Oh.”

  If he were standing, he would have kicked his own ass. The slap of the words sounded harder than he meant. He took out other women to forget Jennifer. It was that simple.

  But he couldn’t admit that part without shredding what was left of his ego. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

  She shook her head, even held up a hand as if she could block his words. “It’s okay. I deserve that.”

  He pushed up on one elbow. “It wasn’t a punishment.”

  “Okay.”

  He needed her to get this much at least. “Just a statement. It’s truth. I need you to know I’m not sitting here waiting for you to come back.”

  “Anybody special?”

  “Only you.”

  “When you say things like that . . .”

  No, absolutely not. He couldn’t wander down that road only for her to throw up another block and turn him around. “You’re free, Jennifer. I’m not holding you or trying to manipulate you.”

  “I get that.”

  “You snuck into my bed tonight, not vice versa.”

  “And other nights.”

  “Yeah.”

  She backed up until she leaned against the wall. A heavy sigh shook her body. “One day there might be someone else with you, and there won’t be a place for me.”

  “There should be. We both deserve to find what we need because we’re over.” That slap he meant because it was true.

  If the words hurt her, she didn’t show it. Her body stayed slack, as if she’d been beaten up and waited for surrender. “Then why does it feel so unfinished?”

  The description was so painful yet so true. “I’m guessing that’s how it will always be for us.”

  “Undone.”

  The word fit. Hurt like hell, but fit. “You should go back to your own bed, Jennifer.”

  “Yeah.” But she didn’t move.

  Since he couldn’t handle her standing there, he pushed. “Good night, Jennifer.”

  “Good night, Paul.”

  Amazing how that word sounded so much like good-bye in his head.

  Eleven

  Nothing cuts as deep as disloyalty.

  —Grandma Gladys, The Duchess

  “I DON’T KNOW IF I COULD DO IT,” ADAM SAID AS JENNIFER slid into the car seat next to him.

  They’d spent the evening laughing over Greek food. It was a pattern they’d repeated often since they started casually hanging out together. They weren’t more than friends and never would be, but it was nice to go to dinner and not worry about the usual date stuff. With Adam, Jennifer could be herself and not worry about anything other than talking.

  He was tall and dark and made her laugh, but he never shifted from the friend category to anything more. She’d given her heart once, and there was nothing left to share in that department.

  “Paul and I are long over.” She pulled the seatbelt across her stomach with a bit more force than she intended. The subject of Paul tended to do that to her.

  “I don’t mean you, babe. I mean him.” Adam started the car. The steady thump of the windshield wiper filled the space. “You guys used to date, and now he walks into your house and sees me there, waiting for you. Even though there’s nothing to be jealous about, he doesn’t know that.”

  “And?”

  “Just saying that can’t be easy on a guy.”

  “Paul is fine.” She reached over and turned up the radio.

  Adam turned it back down. “You’d be a hard woman to lose.”

  “Thank you.”

  Adam knew pieces of the story but not all of it. Jennifer owed Paul that small bit of confidentiality. She had only shared the deepest moments and fears with Heather and Tracie. Only they knew that Paul was the love of her life.

  “I’m just saying I feel bad for the guy.” Adam rubbed his hands together and blew on them twice before returning them to the steering wheel.

  “You were using the phone, not walking around the kitchen naked.” A chill moved through her as she watched the raindrops splash in a puddle.

  “You know what I mean.”

  She did. She’d grown accustomed to coming home and seeing Paul there. He’d been friends with Tracie for years and had a strong relationship with Heather. It wasn’t fair to ask him to walk away from those contacts when they split up.

  Almost six months had passed since the birthday party. They’d kept everything friendly and hands-off since then. Despite that, having Paul stand there when Adam escorted her out the door earlier made a nerve at the base of her back thump.

  “We’re over. Paul agrees.” She made that comment in her head every week. Maybe saying it out loud to Adam would give it some strength.

  “You don’t have to convince me.”

  No, but if she said it enough she might believe it. “Then why are we arguing about it?”

  Adam flashed her a grin. “I thought we were just talking.”

  They pulled out of the parking lot and headed for her house a few blocks away. They normally would have walked the short distance, but the rain made a stroll impossible.

  She rubbed her forehead as the minutes passed. “Sorry. Don’t mean to be defensive tonight.”

  “Maybe you need to go to bed.”

  “I do.”

  Adam turned the car into her driveway and shut off the engine. He shifted in his seat and stared at her. “You don’t have to try so hard, you know.”

  “I enjoy being with you.”

  “Same here, but that’s not what I mean.”

  She leaned back against the headrest. “I know. I just don’t understand why the Paul thing doesn’t get easier. Ending it was my decision.”

  Adam glanced at the street and nodded in the direction of Paul’s car. “He’s still here.”

  “He and Tracie planned to watch a movie.”

  “They do that sort of thing a lot?”

  “Paul comes in and out all the time.” Seeing him so often should have made Jennifer uncomfortable. Instead, it filled her with an odd sense of security.

  “You okay with all that contact?”

  “For now.”

  Paul thought he should sit up. At the very least, he should take another chair and let Tracie have the couch. He sure as hell shouldn’t be sitting there with her arm wrapped around his shoulders and her body pressed up against his.

  Not that her move had been a total surprise. Tracie had been dropping hints for weeks that she wanted more from him. Neil insisted Tracie had started plotting long before that. Maybe, but Paul was too bound to Jennifer back then to notice.

  But they were over now. He had dated women since it ended with Jennifer. No one special and nothing long-term. Just fun and a few dinners. He and Jennifer had talked about this. They could save their friendship and hang out without more. No matter how tempting she was.

  Tracie dragged her hand through the hair at the back of his neck as she whispered in his ear. “Maybe we should finish this in my room.”

  He was free. This wasn’t cheating. He repeated the refrain in his head until he couldn’t hear anything else.

  “Paul?”

  Tracie had been a good friend, so supportive and sweet in the days following his final relationship implosion with Jennifer. He cared about Tracie. Liked her short blonde hair and found her attractive. But he didn’t want to lead her on.

  “I’m thinking we need to keep things the way they are,” he said, knowing it was not only the right answer bu
t the only one.

  “We could have so much more.”

  “And mess it all up.”

  Her hand pressed his head toward hers. “Or it could be great.”

  She wanted him to kiss her.

  He wanted to bolt.

  Right as her lips met his cheek, the front door swung open. Tracie froze against him as his body went into shutdown mode.

  When the silence didn’t break and the scent of rain rolled in through the open front door, he looked up. Jennifer stood, eyes wide and hand clenched on the doorknob. She hadn’t moved or tried to step inside. Rain pounded over her, soaking her hair and dripping to the floor from her beige coat.

  Tracie groaned and buried her forehead in his shoulder.

  Paul couldn’t move. Only the rush of blood to his face let him know his body still functioned. Words failed him. He couldn’t think of an excuse and wasn’t sure he should have to.

  But that look. Jennifer’s eyes mirrored blinding shock, and despair played on every inch of her face.

  After a few minutes, she broke the silence by shutting the door with a soft click. The stare down continued. When her gaze focused on his face, he showed her the respect of not turning away. It wasn’t until she went into her bedroom that he realized the final shot, if one had ever existed, was now gone.

  This wasn’t just about them. Tracie had gotten sucked into this round.

  Tracie finally lifted her head. “Are you okay?”

  The words broke through, bringing the answer with a rush of clarity. He hadn’t done anything wrong . . . so why did he feel like crap? “Yeah.”

  “Sure?”

  “This isn’t going to happen.” He disengaged from her hold and shifted away until a few inches separated them on the couch.

  She turned frantic. Her hands slipped around as she talked and her words rushed together. “Don’t make a decision now.”

  “There’s only one answer.”

  “Jennifer dumped you.” The panic cleared from Tracie’s face. “Move on.”

  Amazing how those words buzz sawed right through him. “I may not understand much about women—”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and flopped back against the sofa cushions. “Obviously.”

  “But I know this triangle is a catastrophe waiting to happen.”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  “It’s not just about you.”

  “You’re talking about Jennifer.”

  “I’m talking about me going home.” He stood up. “Good night, Tracie.”

  “You walked in on them?” Heather asked as she paced the small space in front of Jennifer’s bedroom window.

  “Yes.” Jennifer wrapped her arms around her knees and curled into a ball near her headboard. She tried not to touch her eyes. They burned from the inside out, all itchy and swollen. She knew without looking they resembled rare hamburger.

  Heather pivoted. “On the couch. Our couch.”

  “Yes.”

  “In our house.” With every phrase, Heather’s voice grew louder. Her feet pounded against the floor and her hands balled into fists. Fury poured off of her.

  “She was all over him.”

  Heather stopped. “Technically, that’s not his fault.”

  “He wasn’t fighting her off.” That part stung the most. Jennifer didn’t even have to close her eyes to replay the scene.

  Then her imagination took over. Visions of Paul holding Tracie, touching her. Paul kissing Tracie. She didn’t know if any of that had happened, but the film playing in her head held the images. Jennifer almost gagged on them.

  “You should kill her.” Heather nodded as she glared at the closed door to the rest of the cottage. “I’ll help you.”

  “It’s more tempting than you know.” Jennifer had spent most of the night devising ways to hurt Tracie.

  Jennifer had never been moved to violence . . . until now. She hated injustice. As a kid she’d failed a class rather than show respect to a teacher who allowed bullying. People had to earn her trust, and Tracie had. Now she had violated it in the most fundamental way.

  There was a girl code. A friendship line you never crossed. Tracie knew the truth, knew that Jennifer had lost her heart to Paul years before. Ignoring that and moving in made Jennifer want to pound something.

  Heather dropped on the edge of the bed. “What about him?”

  Jennifer tried to calm her breathing, but the hate festering inside unleashed and refused to be chained again. “What do you mean?”

  “Do we hate him this morning, too?”

  She was disappointed and sad, certainly heartsick, but she didn’t really blame him. “I wish.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No.” But she wanted to. With her heart smashed, she wanted him to feel the same. “We’d agreed to see other people. I’d be a complete hypocrite if I questioned Paul’s fidelity.”

  “Besides, you don’t know if anything really happened. You said it looked kind of one-sided.”

  “Or I want to think that.” If when she dated other guys Paul felt half of the misery she experienced now, she’d messed up huge. This kind of hurt, the rip-your-guts-out-and-stomp-on-them kind, rivaled the pain of their final break-up.

  “The one thing we can agree on is that Tracie swooped in with some sort of mucked-up attempt to win Paul over.” Heather shook her head. “That makes me furious with her and, well, with him. Can’t he see through that?”

  “This isn’t about him. It’s about a friend of more than fifteen years stabbing me.” The pain in Jennifer’s stomach felt as if each word had been ripped out of her. “She didn’t even talk to me or tell me she was attracted to him. No, she saw an opening and went for it.”

  Heather nodded. “I definitely hate her on your behalf.”

  This tainted every moment of their friendship. Jennifer questioned every previous detail; she’d spent the long evening hours hunting for signs of Tracie’s true feelings for Paul. She didn’t have to go far. The hints lined up—always touching him, buying him things, whining about how it was fairer to let him go—Tracie was guilty of every offense. Jennifer wondered how she’d missed all the signs.

  “Tracie knows what Paul means to me. Even if he’s my past, he’s the one guy who is off-limits, or should be.”

  “No argument here.” Heather leaned over with her elbows balanced on her knees and stared at the floor. “Are you going to confront her?”

  “No.”

  Heather’s head snapped up. “Why the hell not?”

  Jennifer had turned the possibility over in her mind. She wanted to scream and rage, but none of that could make her unsee what she’d seen. She couldn’t grab back that moment and make it never happen.

  “Not going to give her the satisfaction.” She tightened her fist over the tissue she’d stuffed there and said the words that hurt the most. “The reality is, it’s not my business.”

  “Don’t let her off the hook with that. She needs to know how you feel and how crappy this is.”

  “Oh, I’m not going to forgive and forget. No way. The friendship is over, and we’ll never get it back.” Jennifer didn’t want it back. She wasn’t even sure she could stand in the same room with Tracie without throwing something at her.

  “You’re taking this entirely too well.”

  Jennifer lifted her head so her sister could see the eyes that hurt even to blink. “Look closer.”

  Heather winced. “Right.”

  After a short knock, the bedroom door opened. Tracie peeked around the corner. “Hi.”

  Her nerve touched off another round of mind-numbing fury inside Jennifer. How dare Tracie walk in as if she were welcome? The idea that she didn’t know the extent of her betrayal was too hard to imagine.

  “Have a good night?”

  At Heather’s whack of sarcasm, Tracie swallowed. “Jennifer, can we—”

  No way. “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Jennifer threw her legs off the bed
and stood up. It was a miracle her muscles held her weight. She felt boneless and empty and shaky enough to fall right back down. “I have to get ready to go out.”

  No way would she let Tracie know the day’s plans consisted of crying and grieving in the bedroom. Then searching the newspaper for a new place to live.

  Tracie’s hand tightened on the edge of the door. “We should talk. It wasn’t what you think.”

  Jennifer just stared. She stood there and faced down the woman she once considered her best friend and didn’t say a word.

  She waited until Tracie started squirming and glancing around the room, like she had a vain hope there might be something there that would save her.

  “Talk about what, Tracie?” Her ability to hold her voice steady filled Jennifer with pride. Shaking or breaking down were not options. “What could we possibly have to say to each other right now? I can’t think of a thing.”

  “I just—”

  Jennifer felt the fury rush through her blood. “What? Say it.”

  The silence dragged on until Tracie swallowed. “Nothing, I guess.”

  Jennifer felt her first taste of satisfaction. “That’s right.”

  Twelve

  Remember to take pleasure in the small things because they can sometimes mean everything.

  —Grandma Gladys, The Duchess

  BEING THE BIGGER PERSON SUCKED. JENNIFER CAME to that conclusion as she walked into the barn at their friend Ed’s farm in Coldwater.

  As the weeks after the incident stretched into months, Jennifer’s anger only festered. Paul and Tracie hung out all the time. While Jennifer never saw or heard anything that suggested their friendship had crossed a line into something else, Tracie’s possessiveness grew. She acted as if she owned Paul.

  Jennifer never brought up the disloyalty with Tracie, never talked about it or cleared the air. She let the mess pulse there like an open wound. It bled and grew every time she saw them together—which Tracie seemed to make sure happened all the time—and never healed.

  Even now, Jennifer watched Tracie hang all over Paul while their host, poor Ed, stood there pining for her. Jennifer knew what a man in love looked like. She’d seen it on Paul’s face often enough, and even now caught flashes from him aimed in her direction. She saw it when Ed stood close to Tracie and tried to engage her in conversation. Ed wanted Tracie. Having nine friends crowded around him, all talking and fighting for attention, didn’t change that fact.