“Thank you, that was amazing,” I try to offset Mitch’s mood with the island staff who have been nothing short of welcoming. “Wasn’t it, Mitchel?” I almost beg for him to be a gracious guest instead of an entitled prick.
“Yeah, what my fiancée said.” Mitch manages to insult the staff and me in one breath.
“I wish you hadn’t said that,” I mention, cautious of his reaction. Mitch has decided we’re going to have a romantic walk along the escarpment before lunch awaits us at a private beach.
“What?”
Where to begin? “Calling me your fiancée. It makes me look bad.”
“In what way? Because you turned up to our honeymoon with another guy? Instead of my wedding band on your hand, you had his cock in it?”
I don’t mean to slap him, definitely not so hard that the red mark matches the developing sunburn.
“Ouch, what the fuck!” He cries.
“You don’t get to slut shame me. You don’t get to call me your fiancée, or girlfriend, or at all if you can’t get over yourself.”
“What part of what I said is a lie? You wanted this as our honeymoon destination, and I agreed.”
“You might have agreed to it, but did you pay for it?” I shoot back darkly, waiting for his acknowledgment. This was supposed to be the day Mitch convinced me of forever, but we have a lot of past to get through first.
“The bastard couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”
“Your best man was able to use the same credit card used for payment to cancel and get reimbursement for all the activities I had booked for us.”
“You mean, you didn’t do the couples massage with him?” Mitch spits.
“No. Or the kayaks or paddleboards.”
“Glad you saved something for me. I never liked seconds.”
“You are such a fucking bastard!” If I could slap him again, I would. Instead, I storm off up the path and wish Hunter would magically appear just so I could kiss the shit out of him.
No! I’m not using Hunter.
As my steps slow, Mitch catches up. “I’m sorry, Olivia. Really, I am. I know the two of you have history, and that he’d try something with you.” He pulls me to a stop, his hand gripping my arm so firmly it will surely bruise. “Whatever you saw with Lina, what I’ve been imagining between you and Hunter had to be worse.”
Not trusting myself to speak, I nod and let Mitch take my hand as we walk in silence. Or at least it starts as silence before Mitch starts trying to talk me around, listing all the reasons I shouldn’t have been surprised at his affairs. Starting with the hours spent building my career instead of being at home and waiting for him. Then there were my opinions about how he should do things at work, instead of building up his confidence. The fact that some of my suggestions had been to reinforce his father’s seemed to go over his head. Mitch explained how I needed to appreciate his need to immerse himself in the business world, and ignore frivolity.
Blah, blah, blah.
I tune out, preferring to go back to my earlier concern: using Hunter instead of loving him. Last night. Two nights ago. Every damn moment—had they been about rebuilding and reconnecting with Hunter as more than friends, or about punishing Mitchel with his best friend?
“Why Lina?” I ask as we reach the top of the walk and try to appreciate the almost 360-degree views.I’m here with the wrong man.“Why not another stranger?”
“It just happened.”
“Did you think of Pete? The guy was going to propose.”
“He was?” Mitch appears genuinely shocked. “I didn’t know. I thought they were just casual.”
“They’d been together almost as long as us. How was that casual?”
“Lina was there when I needed someone.”
“You didn’t think about turning to your fiancée?”
“I couldn’t. Lina knew about my gambling and the busted negotiations. I couldn’t tell you. Not when your life was going gangbusters.”
