“Mrs. H’s orders were clear. I didn’t want to get us in more trouble.”
“We could’ve gone somewhere else, Brianna.”
“And miss all this?” She gestured to the chaotic energy of the place. “Not on your life.”
He looked at her with what might’ve been new respect, but Brianna didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.
“You know all about me, and I know very little about you other than you’re an architect from Boston and have an older brother.”
“That’s about the extent of it.”
“No way.” He dove into the basket of cornbread like he hadn’t seen food in a year. “There’s got to be more to it than that. Ever been married?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“See? I knew there was more to the story. What happened?”
“It’d be easier to tell you what didn’t happen.”
“I’m intrigued.”
Brianna didn’t want to talk about this, but he was right. She knew a lot about him and his family, but he didn’t know anything about her. “Do you know what a sociopath is?”
“I picture serial killers when I hear that word.”
“That’s what I thought, too, until I encountered one in person. They lie, cheat and steal with no regard for consequences or the feelings of others. I was lucky enough to be married to that. I still am because he’s refusing to divorce me after he all but ruined me in every possible way. So, there. That’s my life.”
“I’m sorry.”
Kindness from someone she’d been so at odds with felt better than she would have expected. “It is what it is. Cost me more than twenty thousand dollars in therapy to get to the point where I could look at it as something that was outside my control. He has antisocial personality disorder, and there was nothing I could’ve said or done differently to change what he is. I just wish I’d listened to my gut before I married someone who seemed too good to be true.”
She’d said more to him than just about anyone other than her therapist since the shit hit the fan last Christmas. It felt good to speak about her nightmare with someone who didn’t know Rem or them as a couple. For some reason, she wanted to tell him the rest.
“A lot of people in my life didn’t believe he was capable of the things he did, because they all liked him so much. That’s the ultimate dichotomy. Sociopaths are often extremely likable people who charm others into their web of deceit. By the time you realize what you’re dealing with, you’re in so deep, it feels like you’ll never break free of the nightmare.”
Noah didn’t offer platitudes the way many other people did. He just listened and let her talk, which she appreciated.
“How did you find out he wasn’t what he seemed?”
“One of my friends saw him having lunch with another woman. He didn’t notice her, but she watched him until she was sure it wasn’t platonic. Imagine the hubris it takes to be married and take someone else out to lunch like it was no big deal. She called me, told me what she’d seen, and at first, I didn’t believe her. I thought maybe she was jealous of our marriage or something, but then I started to dig. It wasn’t hard to uncover his trail because he hadn’t done anything to try to hide it. There were credit card charges at hotels and restaurants all over Boston, dating back to before we were married.”
“Shit, Brianna. That must’ve been so awful.”
“It was horrific. I went from being happily married to realizing it was all a big lie in the span of a few hours. I couldn’t eat or sleep or work for more than a month. And despite all the proof I had, Rem claimed he was being set up and refused to leave our home. I had to move back in with my parents just to get away from him. All these months later, he won’t sign divorce papers. He says the marriage isn’t over as far as he’s concerned.”
“I wish there was something more I could say than I’m sorry. That doesn’t feel adequate.”
“Thank you.”
Noah took a long drink from his beer. “I caught my wife in bed with my foreman.”
“What?” The word left her on a long exhale. “God, Noah.”
“Yeah, it sucked pretty bad. Miguel had worked for me for more than five years, and I relied on him for everything. He was also one of my closest friends. And my wife… We’d been married two years, and I thought we were mostly happy. Like you, I suddenly found out otherwise.”
She shook her head in dismay. “Why do people have to hurt the ones who love them the most?”
“I’ll never understand that part of it. I was good to them both. I treated Miguel like a member of my family. Trusted him with everything, and she knew she was the most important part of my life. I thought the three of us were the best of friends. I had no idea what they were doing behind my back.”
“Like you said, saying I’m sorry seems so inadequate.”
“You want to know something else?”
“Only if you want to tell me.”
“Not even my mother knows why my marriage ended.”
Chapter Five
“You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world. But you do have some say in who hurts you.”
—John Green
Why was he confiding in her this way? If you’d asked Noah before he left the house if he’d tell Brianna what happened with Melinda, he would’ve said you were crazy. He never talked about that topic with anyone, so why would he tell her, of all people?
But after hearing what had happened to her, he’d felt compelled to let her know he got it. Strangely enough, it made him feel a little better to know that shit like that happened to other people, too, even if he’d never wish that kind of heartache on anyone.
Brianna had been a revelation in more ways than one. There was nothing not to like about her away from work. In addition to being funny, she was also very, very pretty, which, of course, he’d noticed before tonight. If he were honest with himself—and really, what’s the point of lying to yourself?—he’d have to admit to being instantly attracted to her on day one. Perhaps that was why he’d allowed himself to be so easily annoyed by her.
“Why do you feel the need to keep what happened to yourself?” she asked as she sipped her cocktail.
“It’s embarrassing.”
“To whom?”
“To me. My wife was screwing my employee.”
“Isn’t it a bigger deal to you that he was your friend?”
Noah shrugged. He hated to think about that time in his life, let alone talk about it. “The whole thing sucked.”
“I’m sure it was awful, but to keep it completely to yourself is to give it power over you long after it should be a distant, unpleasant memory.”
He eyed her with newfound respect. “Did your therapist tell you that?”
“Among many other things. She made me see that Rem’s actions weren’t a reflection of me. They reflected him. I was a victim of his cruelty. You were a victim of theirs.”
“I hate that word. Victim.”
“I hate it, too, because people think victims are weak. But we’re the strong ones because we survived something that could’ve ruined us. What I told you about my ex-husband is like one one-thousandth of the full story. I’m sure there’s more to your story, too, things that others will never know, but you’ll never forget. There’s nothing weak about being a victim of someone else’s cruelty.”