Page 41 of Someone Else's Wolf

"Okay." I got up, feeling strangely lightheaded and calm, like the inside of a cyclone where the water is still. "That just about says it all."

I guessed I could be glad he used protection with his casual sex buddies, other than me —how many? how often? how had I not guessed?— but, really, I was an idiot for thinking it was only me. I was just an idiot, period.

Wolves are loyal, my ass. I wasn't going to lose it or cry or be emotional any more about this. I was deadwood; the feeling would come later, like a foot fallen asleep, coming alive again with painful, unavoidable prickles.

"I think I'd better go."

He surged to his feet and caught me by my arms, panic writ large all over his face. "Wait. Shane. You know I—" He pressed his forehead against mine, taking gulps of air. "You know—"

I waited, resistant and still, waiting him out. He couldn't say it. Of course he couldn't. He'd been fucking around on me this whole time.

"There hasn't been anyone for ages," he said finally, grinding the words out like they hurt him. "You know I — I'm quite taken with you, really."

I snorted.

"I really am," he promised. "I was so drawn to you at work. I just—" His voice trailed off. He gently squeezed and massaged my arms, then reluctantly released me and took a step back. But his eyes pleaded. How could he look so earnest and pained, and be such a liar?

"Look, you should've said it was an open...whatever, when we started. I mean, after the first time," I clarified. I felt like an idiot, and a hypocritical one at that, for making this point now, since I'd basically just assumed and had never asked the hard questions.

He could fool anyone with his clueless, sweet innocence and the air of loyal devotion he exuded. He really could. Someone more sensible would've looked closer, though. After all, there was a reason he studiously avoided any form of commitment or words of devotion.

It simply wasn't serious to him, and he hadn't bothered to let me know explicitly that he was seeing other people. I'd been foolish enough to assume things. Now, on top of being mad and hurt, I felt like the moron I was.

"Please, don't go," Peter said, his voice small and repentant. "I'm sorry. I should have — I don't know. I should have handled things better."

No kidding, pal.

He stared at the floor, and somehow it was even more affecting than his hypnotic, intense stare. He could sway me with those expressive eyes of his — and I think he knew it — but he wasn't even trying. He was speaking as if he had no hope of changing my mind but had to try anyway. "I wish you wouldn't go."

"Would you quit sleeping with other people if I did?" I asked. It was a rhetorical question; he wasn't going to give an inch, and I wasn't going to stay.

He stayed silent, so I headed past him toward the door, wondering if I should gather my charger and toothbrush. Whatever shreds of dignity I could summon would already be too late, gone into the wind.

"Wait. I — I won't, um, I won't be with anyone else unless I tell you about it first, okay? I promise?" He twisted his hands together, looking like he was in almost physical pain with this concession.

Nice.

"So, I have to hear about all your little conquests before they happen? No, thanks. I'm not into that."

Besides, if that was the kind of relationship he wanted, he could've been open about it in the first place. If he was the happily non-monogamous, open-relationship sort, he wouldn't feel the need to hide it and sneak around, now, would he? And I would have known what I was in for, and wouldn't be feeling screwed over by his lies right now.

All this time, I'd been crazy about him, and he'd been seeing other guys on the side. Were they hotter than I was? Where did he find them all? He was so awkward with strangers, and frankly kind of a homebody. I wouldn't have expected him to be a clubber or into night life.

Maybe he used an app. Maybe he fucked other people from the precinct.

Now, there was a pleasant thought. And each of us thinking we were the only one. Hell, maybe he even slept with his partner Sue, and had all along. After all, what did I really know about him?

"Shane, I — I don't know what to say. I can't change how things are. But I wish—"

"Cryptic," I observed. "Look, don't bother about me, okay? You've obviously got plenty of guys who can keep you busy. Just go ahead and live your life, and I'll start living mine. It's about fucking time. I'm not going to pine after a guy like you."

You know what, I can buy a new toothbrush. There was no reason to stick around here one second longer than I had to.

He held a hand out towards me as I marched towards the door, his expression close to panic. "But, Shane... Wait. It's not like that. It really isn't."

"Fuck off, Peter. Let me have my dramatic exit." I showed my teeth in a strange sort of smile, to show I still had my sense of humor. I doubted either of us was finding any humor in the situation, though.

I slammed the door as I left, but it didn't make me feel any better. Just small, and bitter, and mean, as shriveled up inside as that liar must be.