After days of pacing, I went over to Jasmine and Tony’s house and sat on one of their kitchen stools, where I’d sat a million times, and asked their advice.
It was difficult because I couldn’t tell them anything.
“So, Travis lied to me.”
Jasmine gasped. “He’s married?”
I shook my head.
Her gasp was louder the second time. “He’snota billionaire?!”
“Really Jaz? That’s the next worst thing?” Tony lifted his brows unimpressed.
“I mean...” She glanced back at me seeking the answer. “It would be pretty bad.”
“Unbelievable.” Tony rolled his eyes, and I actually laughed.
“No, he is,” I told them.
“Thank god.”
“I’m out.” Tony got up and walked into the living room, turning on the TV.
“So what happened? What did he lie about?” Jasmine moved closer. “Was it a dick thing?”
“Wow, you really have a wild imagination, don’t you?” I shook my head. “No, his penis is fine.”
“Fine as in how fine?”
“Are you not having sex or something?” I frowned.
“Tons. But it's married sex. Making baby sex. You’ll understand one day. I need all the spice.”
I wasn’t going to comment on that.
“I can’t tell you much, and I really shouldn’t be saying anything at all, but he said he loved me.”
More gasping and clasping her chest.
“I knew it! Oh, my god. You are marrying a billionaire,” she cried. “Fuck the lies. Men lie. People lie. Where are you getting married? Venice? New Zealand?”
I blinked.
“What? No, I’m not getting married. He lied to me. I don’t even know if he really meant it when he said he loves me. That’s what I need help with!”
“Does he like the Yankees or Red Sox?” Tony called out.
“Not everything is about baseball Tony!” I yelled back.
“Answer the question.”
I couldn’t.
Because I didn’t know. We’d had a lot of sex, but not conversation.
“I don’t even know his favorite color.”
“That’s a chick thing,” Tony said. “Guys don’t say I love you unless a) they mean it or b) they’re Jeffrey Dahmer and it’s probably when he’s sprinkling salt on your thigh steak.”
