Kiss and Don’t Tell
: Chapter 23

I slam the door to my apartment and throw the flowers I got for Winnie onto the console table in my entryway.

I pause, hands on my hips, trying to catch my breath.

What the actual fuck?

I check my phone again to read Winnie’s last text.

Winnie: At the grocery store, running late. Be there soon.

Yeah, I know exactly why she was fucking running late.

I storm to my fridge, whip open the door, and pull out a beer. I use the counter to knock off the top and then take a long pull from the bottle.

She was with fucking Josh.

I grip the bottle in my hand so goddamn tightly that I fear I’ll snap the neck of the bottle right off.

Josh.

How in the actual fuck did that happen? Did she know he was in Vancouver? Is that why she came with me? So she could meet up with him the first chance she got?

Is that . . .

Holy fuck.

Is that who she’s been texting?

I bring the beer to my lips again and chug. I chug the entire thing and then toss the bottle in my sink, where it shatters. I reach into my fridge and grab another. I pop off the top and pace the length of my kitchen as my mind spins with accusations, of scenarios, of the moment I caught them together—hugging, him kissing her on the goddamn head.

“Fuck,” I shout as I grip the kitchen counter and gulp down some more of my beer. I pull my phone out and open up the text thread with Josh. Without thinking, I shoot him a text.

Pacey: Stay the fuck away from her. Do you hear me? She’s not fucking yours, stop trying to make it that way.

There’s no way she’d get back together with him. Right? The dude was a total asshole to her. He emotionally belittled her. He made her feel as if she wasn’t good enough. He threw away the best thing to ever happen to him.

And yet, they were hugging.

My phone buzzes.

Josh: Never thought I’d see the day when Pacey Lawes was jealous of me.

Pacey: I’m not fucking jealous. I just don’t want you fucking with her head. You’ve done that enough.

Josh: I wouldn’t do that to her.

Pacey: You already did.

Josh: If you’d actually let me fucking explain, maybe you’d have a better understanding.

Ha . . . okay.

I tip my beer back, taking a giant gulp until it’s completely done. I set the bottle on the counter this time and stare at the front door, waiting.

My headspace is foggy.

My fury over my future is terrifying me. I’m trying to act as if everything is okay, but in the back of my mind, I can feel it—something is going to happen. Doc’s going to call me into his office and deliver life-changing news. From his demeanor, I could fucking feel it.

Pair that with Winnie, standing there with Josh, as if they never skipped a beat. Watching her from afar, falling into his embrace, allowing him to touch her like I touch her.

I’ve never felt more . . . betrayed.

She’s mine.

And I thought I had forever.

Pacey: Just stay the fuck away. Got it?

I reach into the fridge again, grabbing another beer. This one I open with my actual bottle opener, taking a small sip just as my front door opens. Winnie shuffles in, carrying two reusable bags, one in each hand. Her eyes immediately take in the tossed flowers splayed out of their packaging. She turns her head to replace me, fuming in the kitchen.

“Pacey,” she says, her voice startled. “Is everything okay?”

I push off the counter and back up until I hit the other side of the kitchen. I lean against that counter and bring the beer to my lips as I keep my eyes on her.

“Pacey?” she questions as she brings the groceries to the kitchen. She sets them on the counter and then turns toward me. “What’s going on? Did you hear from the doctor?”

I take another sip of my beer, lick the residue off my lips, and then casually ask, “How was the grocery store?”

If it weren’t for her eyes widening only slightly, I wouldn’t have noticed any difference in her composure.

“It was—it was fine. Confusing. Not used to where they placed things.” Her brow knits together and she comes up to me. She rests her hand on my chest. “Pacey, what’s going on? You’re heart—wow, it’s racing.”

I take a long pull from my beer this time. “What did you have trouble replaceing in the grocery store?”

She gives me a confused look. “Uh, the tortillas. Why aren’t you answering me?”

I push away from her and say, “Just trying to understand why it took you so long, at the grocery store.”

She wrings her hands together, a telltale sign of her nerves kicking in. “Are you hungry? Is that what this is about? Because I can quickly—”

“I’m not fucking hungry, Winnie,” I snap at her, causing her to take a step back in surprise. “I want to know why it took you so long at the grocery store.”

“Wh-what’s happening?” She scans the room. “I don’t understand.”

I tip back my beer, finish it off, and then set the empty bottle on the dining room table. “I’ll tell you what’s happening.” I close the space between us and point to the flowers. “I went to the store to get you some goddamn flowers because . . . well, fuck, because I’m infatuated with you, and, to my shock, I catch you embracing another man.”

Her eyes widen with guilt as her lip trembles.

“Pacey . . .”

“But not just any man. I catch you with Josh. Fucking Josh, Winnie.” I get in her face. “Is that who you’ve been texting? Is that who put you in a weird mood yesterday? Were you planning on meeting up with him this entire time?”

“No,” she says quickly. “I mean, yes, he was—he was the one I was texting—”

“Un-fucking-believable,” I shout before walking away from her, hands in my hair. My back tenses, the muscles in my shoulders firing off. “You were texting Josh, the fuckhead who belittled you.” I face her. “He made you doubt your beauty, your sex appeal, your compassionate heart. And you just go and let him back into your life?”

“I wasn’t.” She shakes her head.

“And what about me?” I ask. “Am I nothing to you?”

“No, you are, Pacey. You’re—”

I pull at my hair, unable to calm myself down. “Do you know what it felt like to turn the corner and see you there, with him? But you weren’t just with him. He was holding you. He was kissing you.”

“On the head, Pacey.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I shoot back. “He was still kissing you. Imagine how that made me fucking feel, seeing you with Josh.”

“I can’t—” She pauses. Her head tilts to the side and then she takes a step back. “Wait . . . how did you know that was Josh? I’ve never showed you a picture of him.”

Fuck.

When I don’t say anything, she takes a step forward and asks, “Pacey, how did you know that was Josh?”

My teeth roll over my bottom lip and I look away.

“Pacey . . .” Her voice grows tight. “How do you know him?”

Throwing my arms out to the side, I shout, “He’s my half-brother, okay?”

“What?” she asks, her eyes wide with shock. “Your half-brother? Did you know—” I can see the wheels turning in her head as she puts the pieces together. “Have you known this whole time? Every time I spoke of him, every time I mentioned the damage he’d done, you knew he was your brother. Didn’t you?”

What’s the point of lying? There isn’t any, so I answer, “Yeah, I fucking knew you belonged to him.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” she says, her tone angry.

“Bullshit,” I shout, taking a step forward. “You belong to me. Not him.”

Her eyes grow angry. “Is this some sick competition between you and your brother? Am I just some pawn in your game?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I say, before I can stop myself. Fuck, I didn’t mean that. From her shocked and furious reaction, I know she’s not happy with that response, either.

“I see.” She pushes past me and heads to my bedroom.

Growling in frustration, I walk after her. She goes straight to her suitcase, tosses it on the bed, and then starts putting her things in it.

Because I’m a masochist and can’t seem to stop myself, I ask, “Packing up to go see him?”

She stops and looks over her shoulder. “You’re something else, Pacey.” She shakes her head in disappointment. “Let me ask you this—how did you know I was talking about your half-brother?”

“I recognized you,” I admit. “From my dad’s visit. You were in the pictures he showed me. I thought you were fucking gorgeous and I had no idea how my dickhead of a half-brother landed a girl like you. He’s not the kind of man who deserves someone like you.”

“So, this was a competition for you. You have some sort of beef with your brother—”

“Don’t disparage my feelings about my relationship with my half-brother. You have no idea the kind of pain he put my father through. Josh fucked up so many summers because he was a bitter asshole who blamed our dad, when he should’ve been blaming his mom. He made my dad’s life hell, even though my dad tried to have a relationship with him.”

She slowly nods. “So this”—she motions between us—“this is some attempt to get back at him, then. Like a ‘ha ha, I got your girl.’”

“Does it matter?” I ask. “Does it really matter, Winnie? Because you’re missing the point.”

“And what’s the point? I thought it was you deceiving me this entire time.”

“Me not telling you about Josh being my half-brother has zero impact on us.”

She points her finger at me. “That’s where you’re wrong. You deceived me. How could I possibly believe anything you’ve said to me is genuine? How do I know it wasn’t all a ploy to get the upper hand over Josh?”

“If you can’t tell that I’m fucking genuine, then we have bigger problems.”

“You’re right, we do have big problems,” she snaps while pushing past me to the bathroom. She comes back out, arms full of her toiletries. “The fact that you’d even question my loyalty to you is insulting.”

“Yeah? Then why did you keep your texts a secret?”

“I’m sorry, when did you become my master and I had to answer to you about everything in my life?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, Winnie. I’m trying to have a goddamn conversation.”

“No, you’re trying to push your anger and blame onto me when I’m not the one who did anything wrong.”

Arms wide again, my voice rises as I say, “He kissed you on the goddamn head. That’s pretty damning. Tell me you wouldn’t lose your shit if you saw a girl kiss me on my jaw like you do.” When she doesn’t answer, I say, “So don’t tell me you did nothing wrong. You let him touch you. After all he did to you—”

“He told me he had cancer,” she yells back. “Okay?”

My mouth closes up and I stand taller. Cancer?

Josh had cancer?

My mind connects the dots.

The apologies.

Wanting to reconnect.

Needing to talk.

That’s what he was going to tell me, that he had cancer?

Well . . . fuck.

“That’s why he pushed me away, because he didn’t want to put that burden on me when my mom was dying. Did he go about it the wrong way? Completely, but at least he was in a roundabout way looking out for me. Given the possessive behavior I’m witnessing tonight, I’m going to guess you wouldn’t have done the same.”

My jaw tightens from the comparison. “You’re right, I wouldn’t have done the same, because no fucking circumstance in my life would ever push me to the limit of telling you that you aren’t beautiful. That you aren’t the sexiest and most precious person on this earth. That I could live without you. You’d never hear me utter those words, because they just aren’t true.”

“But you are willing to withhold information from me, and instead of listening to my side of the story, you jump to conclusions, painting me in a disgusting light.” She tosses her clothes from the dresser in her suitcase and zips it up. When she sets the suitcase on the ground and starts to wheel it out of my bedroom, panic ensues.

“Then what the fuck happened?” I ask her.

She shakes her head. “You missed the opportunity to receive that explanation.”

“If you’re not going to explain, then what the hell am I supposed to do?”

As she gathers her purse, she says, “You were supposed to trust me, Pacey. You were supposed to have my back. You were supposed to be honest with me.”

“How can I be honest with you when you aren’t honest with me?”

“Because I didn’t tell you Josh texted me? Maybe I didn’t tell you because I knew you were already dealing with a lot, and the last thing you needed was that extra stress. I was looking out for you, Pacey. And just so you know, I didn’t meet up with Josh. I happened to run into him at the grocery store by some mad coincidence. And, yeah, he hugged me, but I didn’t hug him back and, the only reason I allowed it to happen was because I was so shellshocked by what he told me. I’ve known him for so long, so excuse me for taking a freaking second to process.”

She hoists her purse over her shoulder and snags her keys from the console table in the entryway, right next to the flowers I got her.

“Despite what you might think, Pacey, my intentions have always been pure with you. You were the first guy I ever considered being with after Josh broke me. And piece by piece, I felt you put me back together. But now, it all feels like a lie. It feels like a joke. Like I’m a pawn.”

“You were never a pawn, Winnie.”

“How can I ever trust that?” She gives me a once-over. “How can I trust you?”

I don’t know how to answer that. I can feel words on the tip of my tongue, but everything is rushing at me all at once. The beer is kicking in and my ability to process is slowing down.

“That’s what I thought.” She reaches for the knob and I quickly place my hand on the door, stopping her from leaving.

“So that’s it?” I ask her. “You’re just going to leave? You’re giving up on this?”

She lets out a long sigh and then looks at me. “I kept myself in a relationship longer than I should have. I clung to his every word and desperately needed his validation. I feel myself slipping into that same frame of mind with you, but this time it’s worse.”

“I’m not fucking worse than Josh; don’t you dare put me on that level.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean. It’s worse because the feelings I have for you, Pacey, are much stronger. Josh cracked me, but you, Pacey, I know you could break me. And if you broke me, I wouldn’t have anyone to help me pick up the pieces.”

She pulls the door open and more panic erupts inside me. “You’re giving up on us, just like that? One fight and you’re done?”

“This isn’t just a fight, Pacey. This is a situation of distrust unfolding. And without trust in each other, what do we have? After everything I’ve said to you, you should know how hard it is for me to trust a man’s word.”

“Fuck, Winnie. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything about Josh. I didn’t think it was important. And I lost my cool. I’m going through a lot right now and, fuck, I can’t control what’s coming out of my mouth.”

“You’re right, you are going through a lot, and it’s probably best that we break things off before we get in too deep.”

“Too late,” I shout as she crosses the threshold of my apartment. “I’m already in too deep. I’m already falling. I’m already there, Winnie. You’ll break me if you leave this apartment.”

Her eyes connect with mine and in a cold, detached tone, she says, “You broke me first, Pacey.”

And then she rolls her bag down the hallway of my apartment building.

“Fuck,” I shout before slamming my door and dropping to the floor. I clutch my head, fingers tightly gripping my hair. I draw my knees to my chest, and I feel a dull throb erupt behind my eye. This is where I spend the rest of the night, trying to comprehend how I just blew my chance of the best possible future—one with Winnie Berlin by my side. Even maybe forever.

TATERS: How you doing, man?

Hornsby: Just checking in.

Posey: Do you need me to order you some dinner? What does Winnie like?

Holmes: You good?

Taters: Yo, I know you’re probably wrapped up in Winnie, but we just want to know how you are.

Hornsby: It would be cool if you texted us back.

Posey: I’m going to assume that’s a no on the dinner?

Holmes: Dude, you need to respond.

Hornsby: Taters is going nuts.

Posey: I tried giving him some fudge and he rejected it. He’s really concerned. We all are.

Lawes: Winnie left. I fucked up.

Taters: What the hell happened?

Hornsby: Shit, man. I’m sorry.

Posey: She went back home?

Holmes: . . . Hello?