An amused chuckle drifts out of my speaker. “Walked right into that one. What is it, then?”
I tell him about what happened this evening, how I caught Jackson riding a horse blindfolded, and then when I asked him about it, he broke down. “He was just about to tell me, Ollie. He was right there, and then Wagner pulled up, and it scared himoff. I’ve been trying to figure out what he was about to say ever since.”
“How did you leave it?”
“He refused to say anything, so I left.” I scratch my chin. “There’s something else.”
“What?”
“He was acting…weird.”
“Weird how?”
“Like, blinking and squinting a lot.”
“Do you think he was on something?”
“I honestly don’t know. I’ve spent a lot of time with him recently, and nothing I’ve seen indicates he does drugs. Then again, I’m the poster child for addiction not discriminating. So…maybe?”
“Hm.”
“I’m so confused. Every time I think we’re making progress, we seem to hit a wall.”
“Sorry to hear that, man. You’ll figure it out.”
“Thanks. Anyway, sorry. I’m talking your head off, but you called me. Is something up?”
“Actually, yeah.”
I can tell by his tone it’s serious, and here I am, yammering about my problems with Jackson like I have been for months now.
“Has something happened? Are you okay? How’s the leg?”
“Healing. Way too slowly for my liking, but it’s fine. That’s not why I’m calling.”
“What is it?”
“It’s about Derek.”
I gasp. “He proposed?”
“No. He cheated.”
“What?”
Ollie lets out an anguished sigh. “He went away to a fire rescue expo in Raleigh two weeks ago and ran into an ex. A group of them went out for drinks after the first day, things got a little rowdy, and…they slept together.”
“Holy shit.”
“He says he regretted it immediately and that he’s been riddled with guilt and remorse ever since. He says he still loves me and begged me to give him another chance.”
“And will you?”
“No idea. I’m so blindsided by this, I don’t think I’ve had time to properly process anything. He fucked up, that’s for sure, but he was honest in telling me about it. He didn’t have to do that, and if he hadn’t confessed, there’s a good chance I’d have never found out about it. How do I balance those two things? Does him being honest count for anything?”
“Honesty definitely counts,” I blurt out a little too quickly. “But what he did wasmajorlynot okay.”
“It isn’t.”
