Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
I sighed. It was a conversation we would have to have eventually, but five minutes after some seriously incredible sex didn’t seem ideal. “I just meant, I’ve been with someone else, ya know, after us.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I know you have a kid, Gwen. I didn’t figure it was an immaculate conception. But I did figure it was a man who loved and took care of you.” His face flashed hard. “Is this the jackass who you said used you as a punching bag?”
Shit. “Yes, but—”
“Before you try to sugarcoat this, I need to remind you that you promised me at the restaurant that you wouldn’t lie to me and you’d tell me if that fucker hurt you.”
I sat up, the air between us suddenly unbreathable. “Yes, and I also told you that he did hurt me. Just not in the way you were assuming.”
His eyes flashed wide, a hurricane brewing within them as he sat up, pinning me with a malevolent glare. “Then I’m going to need you to be really specific here, Gwen. Because right now, I’m assuming some pretty fucked-up shit that left you vomiting after sex.”
He would have been assuming right.
It was fucked up.
The way Jeff had thought I owed him my body just because I wore his ring. The way he thought me changing clothes or taking a shower was an open invitation for him to grope me. The way he would use his words to beat me down, emotionally exhausting me until it was just easier to give him what he wanted rather than spend the next week living with his snide comments or the silent treatment.
Sex had been a tipping point in my decision to divorce him. I’d struggled for so long, thinking there was something wrong with me, even going so far as to go to the doctor to find out why I had no libido.
Turned out, I didn’t have a problem with sex at all.
I was just having it with the wrong man.
“Gwen,” Truett prompted, his patience waning.
“Look, yes. At the end of our marriage, when he’d browbeat me into sex, I would sometimes throw up afterward. But he never forced himself on me.”
Truett slanted his head. “You ever say no?”
I grimaced. “There were times where I wouldn’t want to do certain things, and he’d get mad, so I’d just…give in to avoid conflict. But—”
“No buts!” He lurched to his feet, stabbing a hand into his hair. “That’s not consent, Gwen. That’s fucking manipulation and coercion. Please, God, tell me you recognize that.”
“I do,” I shot back. “I absolutely do. And it sucks that it took me entirely too long to figure out how toxic he was. For years, I was so blinded by the desire to keep my family together that I missed every single red flag even when they were flown directly in front of my face. But I figured it out eventually and left him.”
He planted his hands on his hips. “You call the cops first?”
“What? No.”
“So this fucker just got away with taking advantage of you? Treating his woman like a piece of meat? That woman being his own Goddamn wife? That woman being the love of my fucking life?” His last statement/question was spoken only a half decibel below a yell.
His tone made my attitude slip. “Yeah, that sums it up. Thank you for the recap. But you know what? You are yelling at the wrong person right now. I let it go. I went to therapy. I did a lot of soul searching. I worked on me. Jeff Weaver is an asshole with no moral compass, so he is no longer in my life. My only concern with him from here on out is to teach my son the difference between right and wrong. And how to respect himself and whoever he chooses to date one day to ensure he doesn’t end up like his father.”
His chest heaved as he stared at me. “This is on me. I never should have let you go.”
I rolled my eyes. “I believe we’ve more than covered that part in recent weeks, but this is not on you. I hate to break this to you, Truett, but not everything is about you. What was it you told me recently? Some things happen for a reason. Some things happen for no reason. And then some things just never happen at all. Through the years, I put up with a lot of shit: heartbreak, grief, turmoil, trauma—you name it, I’ve been there. But I have no regrets, because Jeff falls under the ‘some things happen for a reason’ category. Without him and all the bad that came with it, I wouldn’t have Nate and all the incredible that comes with him.”
He remained silent, and for once, it didn’t piss me off.