Chapter 170 (1/2)

“No . . . I didn’t.” Was she drunk that night?

“Yes, you did.” She holds her phone in the air and I grab it from her.

Lame. Can I come over?

Yeah, how long until you’ll be here?

Thirty minutes.

What the fuck?

“I didn’t send those, that wasn’t me.” I try to replay the night. She doesn’t say anything, she only picks at her fingernails. “Tessa, if I had thought for a second that you were waiting on me, I would have been here with you.”

“You’re honestly telling me you didn’t text me, when I just showed you proof that you did?” She almost laughs.

I need her to yell at me; at least when she’s yelling I know she cares. “Did I not just say that?” I bark.

She stays silent. “Who did, then?”

“I don’t know . . . shit, I don’t know who . . . Zed! That’s who it fucking was—it was Zed.” That fucker handed me my phone from where he was sitting on the couch; he must have been texting Tessa acting like he was me so she would be waiting on me.

“Zed? You’re really trying to blame Zed for this?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what I’m doing. He sat down on the couch right after me and handed me my phone. I know it was him, Tessa,” I tell her.

Her eyes flash with confusion and for a second I know she believes me, but she shakes her head. “I don’t know . . .” She seems to be talking to herself.

“I wouldn’t tell you I was coming and not show, Tess. I’ve been trying hard, so damn hard, to show you that I can change. I wouldn’t stand you up like that, not anymore. That party was so fucking boring anyway, and I was miserable without you there—”

“So, were you?” She raises her voice and stands from the bed.

Here we go.

“Were you miserable while there were strippers there?” she yells.

Fuck. “Yes! I didn’t even stay after they got there! Wait . . . how do you know about the strippers?”

“Does that matter?” she challenges me.

“Yes! It matters; it was him, wasn’t it? It was Zed! He’s filling your head with all this bullshit to make you turn on me!” I yell back at her. I fucking knew he was up to something. I just didn’t know he’d stoop that low. He texted her from my phone and then deleted the messages. Is he really that fucking stupid that he would fuck with my relationship again? I’m going to find that little shit—

“He is not!” she yells, interrupting my rage.

Oh my fuck. “Okay, then, let’s call your precious fucking Zed and ask him.” I grab her phone again and pull up his name . . . in her favorites list. Goddamn, I want to smash her phone against the goddamn wall.