“All right. Were you only going to fuck me because he says so, this creep, whoever he is? Tell me who he is, Charlotte.”
I can’t. I can’t tell him. It’d break his heart. He’s never forgiven him for the way it was before. “I’d never make love to you on someone else’s say-so. Mike, I wanted to. I want to. I—oh, what a fucking mess.” I struggle to even look up at him.
“Make love? Is that what we were going to do? You know how I feel about you. I’d have been making love. But you, you’d have been performing for Mr Creepy, wouldn’t you? This was never about me. You and me. Was it?”
“You should never have come, Mike. I told you on the phone that you shouldn’t.” I know I’m lashing out. There’s no way I should apportion blame to him. If he’d only listened. If only he wasn’t so lovely…