“I didn’t say that,” she defends. “Tia made that up. Not me.”
“And why the hell would she do that?”
Violet casts her eyes down, tucking her chin against her chest. “She thought you were hot, and she thought I needed a social life.”
“You’re shitting me?”
She looks up at me and somberly shakes her head. “No, unfortunately, I’m not. This is the God’s honest truth.”
My laugh is bitter, even though I have no room to be anything less than forgiving. But I don’t feel forgiving. I feel deceived. And angry.
“How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”
“Why would I lie now? There’s no point. The damage is done. Ask me anything and I’ll tell you the truth. Anything.”
“Why?”
“I told you why.”
“Then tell me again,” I snap.
“I help people, Jet. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. My friend needed my help, even if she didn’t know it herself. And I wanted to give it to her.” Her voice breaks as she continues. “And then I met you. And you needed help, too. I knew that telling the truth would hurt so many people, including you and Tia. But keeping the secret would only hurt me. So I chose to keep it to myself so that I could do more good than harm.”
“So how does it feel? Does it feel like you’ve done more good than harm? Because I sure as hell don’t think so.”
With a sob, Violet buries her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Jet. I never meant to hurt you.”
A wave of sympathy is overwhelmed by bitterness when I think of the full implications of what she’s done, even though she doesn’t have all the facts either. “So you slept with me tonight, knowing that you could just get up and go on with life in the morning like nothing happened, while I . . . the addict . . . might suffer a huge setback because of it?”
She crumbles onto the bed like her legs just stopped holding her up. “Oh God, oh God, oh God!”
“Miss High and Mighty, looking down on the rest of us for our weaknesses. But not because you overcame yours like the paragon of strength you pretended to be. No, you’ve never even felt weakness. You have no idea what it’s like . . .”
“But I do,” she moans. “Now, I do. I’ve never wanted something so bad that it has had control over me. Never. I’ve seen it so much, all my life, I avoided anything that could be dangerous. Until you. Don’t you understand, Jet? You were my weakness. You are my weakness. I did horrible things to be with you. I told myself horrible lies, too. Just to be with you. Just to let myself think, even for a minute, that it was okay to be with you. Please don’t hate me, Jet. It was selfish and cruel, but I swear on my life that I never meant to hurt you.” She drops her head again. Her last words are so soft, I barely hear them. And I’m not sure she wanted me to. “I never meant to fall in love with you.”
THIRTY-FIVE: Violet
My heart is being ripped apart! I should’ve told him sooner. Certainly before we had sex. I kept telling myself that I was doing it all to help him, but now I see that I was just afraid.
Afraid of losing him.
But by waiting, that’s exactly what I’ve precipitated. That’s exactly what is happening. And I deserve it. God help me, I deserve it.
I feel like the lowest of the low. Who would lie to a person with a true addiction? Someone seeking help? Someone who trusted you with his secrets? What kind of person does that?
An awful one.
I flinch when I feel Jet’s hands. They settle on my shoulders and are still for a few seconds before they travel down my arms, tightening at my elbows. Gently, he pulls me to my feet.
I can’t look up. I can’t face him and the heartbreaking betrayal I know I’ll see in his eyes. When he puts a finger under my chin and lifts, I keep my lids squeezed shut. I can’t take the sight of what I’ve done. I can’t bear the wreckage.
“Violet, look at me,” Jet demands, his voice not as harsh as it was.
Against my better judgment, I slowly open them, focusing on his face. I don’t see the hatred I expected. Or the disgust. Or the devastation. I see a quiet, hesitant tenderness.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“I’m so sorry I waited so long,” I blubber.
He places a finger over my lips. “No more apologies.”
“Please forgive me. I—”
“There’s nothing to forgive. I know you didn’t do it on purpose. That’s not the kind of person you are. And I know that. I was just . . .” Jet sighs. “I was just a little hurt. And surprised. Even though, in retrospect, I think I should’ve guessed.”
I frown. “Why do you say that?” I ask.
Jet’s lips curve into a small smile, and he brushes away the strands of hair that have stuck to my wet cheeks. “You don’t look anything like a sex addict.”
“What does a sex addict look like?”
“Not like a librarian. Even if it’s a sexy as hell librarian. The first time I saw you, I thought you looked innocent. It was hard for me to picture you being some uncontrollable sex fiend.”
I know it’s insane that I might take offense at that, but still, his words sting. “I’ve never even enjoyed sex before. I can’t help it if that shows.”
“Never really enjoyed it? You mean . . . have you never had an—”
I feel humiliation roll up from my stomach to choke me. “No. And I’d rather not talk about it.”
I start to turn away from him, but Jet stops me. “That’s not your fault, Violet. It’s nothing for you to be ashamed of. That’s strictly your partners’ shortcoming.”
“That should be singular.”
“What should be?”
“Partner. Only one.”
“You’ve only been with one other man?”
I nod, feeling worse about this entire trip by the second.
“God, what a stupid ass**le he must’ve been to give you up.”
“I doubt he’d agree.”
“That’s why he’s stupid. You’re smart, witty, gracious, kind. Gorgeous. And your body . . .” Jet trails off, stepping away from me so that he can see me more clearly, an action that has my cheeks flaming up within seconds. “How responsive it is to touch.” I gasp, in both surprise and a little bit of arousal, when he drags the backs of his fingers over one nipple. I feel it come to a firm, tingling point. “I’ve never been with a woman like you. I’ve never felt with someone else what I felt just now.”