“I’m not a damn corporation.” She finally drops the sweet-girl act and lets the aggression show.
Jodie’s tried everything tonight. She offered to suck my cock in the car, she offered sex—a night of whatever I wanted to do with her—cried, and talked about what society would think if we broke up, though I doubt society even knows we’re together, since I keep my relationships out of the spotlight. And now, she’s trying to appeal to my family loyalty.
After all that, I turn to look at her in silence.
Realizing she’s let the mask slip, she tries to slide it back into place. “Forgive me. I lost my temper. I never curse. It’s your fault.”
“I wouldn’t have minded if you’d cursed from day one.” I’ve had enough. “I wouldn’t have minded seeing you lose control.”
“Then I don’t get it.”
“You’ve been pretending. I was honest from the start, when we first began seeing each other, and especially when I handed you the prenup draft. Honesty is non-negotiable for me.”
The tears return. “Okay, so what? I pretended to agree with everything you wanted because I wanted us to work. I thought maybe, after we were married, I could make you fall in love with me.”
I take a moment to think about how to answer. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, if we’re even talking about actual feelings, which I doubt, but I’ve never lied in my life, and I’m not starting now. It’s a Seymour trait—we may be bastards, but we’re not liars.
“I could never love you. That’s exactly why I chose you.”
It takes her a few seconds to process the words, and I genuinely have no idea what to expect next.
Screaming? Curses?
What I don’t expect is for her to unbuckle her seatbelt and climb onto my lap.
“I can be what you want.”
“No, Jodie, you can’t. If you want a real marriage, you need to find a man who wants the same.” I put her back in her seat. “If we get married, I’ll break you. There will never be feelings from my side. I’ll keep fucking other women, because that was part of the contract. I never promised fidelity and never wanted it from you, either. Now, be the lady you were raised to be and go inside. I’ll call later to make sure you’re alright.”
“Don’t be a damn gentleman, LJ!”
“It’s not intentional,” I say, unbothered, “and it’s not personal. I’d say the same to anyone.”
“Son of a—” She covers her mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m losing it. I’m sorry, my love. You’re right. We both need rest.”
“There’s no ‘us’ anymore, Jodie. It’s over.”
“No.”
I get out and open her door. “Go inside.”
“Please.”
“Don’t do this to yourself.”
“Why did you change your mind?”
“We’re not starting over.”
“Come back in two days. Once you’ve calmed down.”
I take her hand and kiss the back of it. “It’s over, Jodie. I hope you find happiness.”
“I’ll never be happy without you, Lazarus. I want us—together.”
She keeps repeating it like a mantra until she finally disappears inside the building.
I return to the car but don’t drive off right away. Instead, I sit there, thinking about the mess I’ve created.
