Page 41 of Now That It’s You (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #5)

K yle had never hated himself more than he had in that moment.

That’s not true , his subconscious reminded him. And right now you’re making up for the one time you hated yourself more than this.

He looked at Meg, wishing he could hit rewind on this entire conversation and do things differently. But if he had the option to rewind, there was a different moment in time he’d choose to erase. Would any of them be sitting here right now if it weren’t for that?

“Meg,” he said softly, not sure what he planned to say next. I’m sorry? I had to do it? Don’t hate me?

But his brain flashed to an image of Matt in a hospital bed two years ago, his face drawn and pale and wracked with guilt.

Kyle could picture it in his head like it was yesterday, the doctors murmuring about depression and suicide risk while Matt gripped Kyle’s arm with alarming force.

“Swear to me you won’t tell anyone,” Matt had hissed. “Not a soul.”

And Kyle hadn’t. Not ever.

Now, Meg stared at him, her expression somewhere between shock and hurt.

He watched her throat move as she swallowed, and he wanted to jump from his seat and tell her she didn’t have to answer.

That it was no one’s business how many blowjobs she’d given his brother. That he’d give anything not to know.

But he did know.

And so did she.

“No.” Meg’s whisper fell like a feather in the center of the room.

Albert leaned down, still towering over her, probably enjoying this moment more than he’d enjoyed anything else in his career as an attorney. “I beg your pardon, dear?”

Meg looked at him, her eyes flashing with humiliation and betrayal. She looked back at her own attorney, who held up his hand again to urge her to stay silent. Part of Kyle hoped she might.

He watched her left hand start to lift, her fingers en route to her earlobe, and he knew she was planning to bite back the retort bubbling inside her. But as her gaze swung back to his, her hand dropped like a dead bird. She looked at it lying there on her lap, then back at him.

“No,” she said again, her voice stronger this time.

“While my fiancé and I didn’t keep a tally sheet in our bedroom, I can say with almost absolute certainty that between the date he took those photos and the date of our wedding, I did not—” she broke off there, shaking her head and giving a brittle little laugh that made Kyle’s chest ache.

“I did not give him twenty-five ‘sloppy BJs.’” She made air quotes around the words, her eyes pooling with tears of embarrassment and anger.

She swung her gaze to his and shook her head.

“As a matter of fact, I probably didn’t give him even a dozen ‘sloppy BJs,’ or even half-a-dozen tidy ones.

And if you want to get technical, I could probably count on one hand the number of times he went down on me the entire time we were together. Is that what you want to hear? Is it?”

Odd how her voice could be a shout and a whisper all at the same time. Kyle had never heard her sound like that, had never seen such bitter fury in her eyes.

“Meg!” Kyle’s mother bolted up, her fists clenching in fury. “I want you out of this house right now! You’ve made a mockery of these proceedings and my son’s life. I have never despised anyone more in my life than I do right this second.”

Meg reeled back as though slapped. Even from across the room, Kyle watched her eyes brimming with unshed tears. It was a miracle of gravity they weren’t spilling down her cheeks, but maybe it was sheer fury holding them back.

As Meg’s gaze swung to Kyle, he knew that was true.

She pressed her lips together, and he wondered if she was holding words in, or honestly at a loss for what to say. When she stood up, she had to catch the back of her chair with one hand to keep from wobbling.

“I’ll show myself out,” she said, nodding at his mother with a look that split Kyle’s heart in two.

She took the steps to the door on legs that looked like they might not keep her up, but she held her head high, the tears still not falling. Her lawyer looked down at the baggie in his hand, seemingly at a loss for what to do with it.

He shoved it in his briefcase, then nodded to the others in turn. “Counselor. Mrs. Midland. Mr. Midland. We’ll discuss this further at a later date.” He cleared his throat. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Kyle’s mother shook her head and grabbed a tissue from the box on the desk beside her. She blew her nose, her eyes red and filled with anger and pain and a whole host of other emotions Kyle knew all too well. He put his arm around his mother, not sure what else to do.

“We’ll see you in court,” she snapped at Meg. “Or in hell !”

The lawyer nodded again, then turned to catch up with Meg. She hadn’t made it out the door yet, and Kyle saw her hesitate on the threshold, her fingers clenched on the doorframe. He expected her to march out of the room without a backward glance, but instead she turned to look at him.

Kyle held his breath, waiting for her to unleash the fury he knew he deserved. He sat frozen in place, expecting her wrath, welcoming it.

Forgive me , his brain telegraphed, willing her to hear him. To understand why he’d done what he’d done.

But instead, Meg shook her head. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes spoke the two words she’d said to his brother before walking out of that church two years ago. The parallel should have comforted him. Here he was, finally in his brother’s shoes.

But the unspoken words felt like icy daggers through his heart.

Forgive me , he telegraphed again, willing her to hear him.

I can’t , that look told him. Not ever.

Then she walked out the door.

“I don’t know whether to be freaked out or glad you’re not crying,” Kendall said, handing her a box of tissues. “But here are some snot rags, just in case.”

Meg shook her head and pushed the tissues away. “I’m done crying. I’ve done so much of it the last few weeks—hell, for the last two years —that I don’t have any tears left.”

She thought about Kyle confessing his inability to cry over his brother’s death and his breakup with Cara. What made the difference between the tears falling or staying locked inside? She looked at Kendall and shook her head. “I never thought he’d betray me like that. Kyle, I mean.”

“Right. Betrayal from Matt wasn’t such a surprise, was it?”

Meg didn’t say anything, too numb to form words.

Kendall sat down on the coffee table in front of her and put her hands on both of Meg’s knees. “Do you want me to tell you I think he should fry in hell? Because I can do that, if that’s what you need.”

She blinked at her friend through watery eyes. “What’s the alternative?”

“Telling you something that might be a little harder to hear.”

Meg swallowed. “Which is what?”

Kendall squeezed Meg’s knees, and the warmth in her eyes was almost enough to thaw the iceberg lodged in the center of her chest since Kyle had spoken in that meeting.

“You did sort of back him into a corner,” Kendall said. “I know it was a shitty thing for him to do, and he betrayed your confidence, but?—”

“But what?” Meg swallowed down the lump in her throat as the tears started to well. “Pillow talk shouldn’t be admissible in legal proceedings. End of story.”

“Right. I know. But you were the one to bring up the sex thing.” Kendall winced. “Not that I’m blaming you. God knows you did what your lawyers told you to do. What your agent suggested. And you know I have no kind feelings for Matt Midland, may he rest in peace.”

Meg took a shaky breath. “I was looking out for myself. It’s something I did so rarely when I was with Matt. I thought?—”

“I know, honey, I was there. I watched that man back over you for years before you finally called it quits. Even before he cheated, he was running you down in small ways every single day.”

She nibbled her bottom lip. “It wasn’t all bad.”

“It wasn’t, I know.”

“It was even pretty good, most of the time.” Meg sniffed. “At least I thought it was.”

Kendall nodded, her hands still warm on Meg’s knees. “When did you stop thinking that?”

Meg hesitated, knowing the answer before her brain formed the words. “When I was with Kyle,” she said softly. “When I saw how different it could be.”

Kendall nodded and reached for Meg’s hands. “I know. It’s like spending your whole life wearing the wrong-sized bra and not realizing it. Then when you finally get the right size, you wonder how you never noticed before how uncomfortable you were.”

“Yes,” Meg said softly. “That’s it exactly.”

Kendall let go of her hands and Meg leaned back against the couch cushions. She shoved hard at the memory of straddling Kyle on this same sofa. Had it only been four weeks since this whole mess started? It felt like mere days. It felt like a lifetime ago. She honestly couldn’t tell anymore.

“Come on,” Kendall said, standing up. “Let’s make dinner together. It’ll take your mind off things.”

“Things,” Meg repeated. “Like the fact that I’m destined to lose the lawsuit that would have assured me the royalties I worked hard for? Like how much Sylvia Midland hates me? Like the fact that I just lost the man I thought I’d started to love?”

Kendall nodded, glancing to the side. “Or the fact that he’s standing on your doorstep right now?”

All the blood drained from Meg’s head. “What?”

Kendall nodded to the front of the house, and Meg followed the direction of her gaze to her own front porch.

Her gut twisted at the sight of him standing there.

She couldn’t see his face through the frosted glass, but she’d have known his shape anywhere.

She’d studied it with her hands, with her mind, with her heart.

“I can get rid of him,” Kendall said. “Either send him away, or arrange for him to meet a gruesome, painful death.”

“No,” Meg said, standing up. Her legs weren’t shaking anymore, so she headed for the front door. “I want to get this over with. I want to hear what he has to say for himself so I can tell him goodbye to his face.”