“Tell me what’s fair, Charlie. Tell me! Because I’d love to know! I’d love to know how you fall in love with someone, and then they sell you out to your goddamned enemy!” he says forcefully, pursing his lips and sucking in his top one like it’s the only thing preventing him from saying something more, something he’ll regret even more.
“It was Jim, Cody! Trevor found out, said it was his plan all along,” I start, but Cody interrupts me.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that…buying time, lining up his investor, blah blah. Trevor called me yesterday,” Cody says.
The news of Trevor’s call catches me off guard, and I squint, looking down, trying to understand how and when. And why he would talk to Trevor and not me. “Trevor called?” I say, my bravado gone.
“Yeah…Trevor called,” he says over his shoulder, going back to work and almost ignoring me completely.
Minutes go by, and Cody busies himself, never coming back to me, not as much as looking in my direction. I look at Gabe, who’s sitting with his feet dangling from the edge of the worktable. He shakes his head no and shrugs, not able to help. My stomach is twitching with nerves, and soon the frustration builds inside me to the point of explosion. I reach down and grab a wrench from one of the toolboxes and throw it at the back wall with every bit of force in my body, in Cody’s view, and it leaves a dent in its wake.
“Fuck, Charlie!? What the hell?” Cody says, charging back over to me.
“You won’t listen!” I scream, reaching down and picking up a hammer. I tilt my arm, ready to throw, but Cody grips my elbow and works the tool from my hand. I jerk my arm away—even though all I want in this world is for him to leave his hand on me—and take several steps back, showing him how hurt I am.
“Fine, I’m listening,” he says, dropping the tool back in its box and folding his arms again, defensively.
“I saw Jim, Cody. The day after you and I…after the first time,” I half whisper, raising my eyebrows, aware that Gabe is hearing everything we say. “He knew. I don’t know how, but he knew. And he told me that if I broke it off with Trevor, that he’d do something…to you!”
Cody breathes slowly through his nose, his eyes holding me hostage. He’s chewing at the inside of his cheek, not blinking, but staring. I’m desperate to know what he’s thinking, to hear his voice again, to touch him, so I move toward him. But he only takes a step back and lowers his brow.
“You tell me this…now? You just thought you’d, what? Chance it? Or maybe you just didn’t give a shit if I lost the shop, just as long as you had a good time. Just as long as you had an out from your fake-ass relationship?” The words barely leave his mouth before I slap him, and I want to take it back the moment I do. But Cody is quick to move away.
“Cody, I’m sor…” I start.
“Just stop, Charlie,” he says, holding his hand flat in the air. “Just stop this thing you’re trying to do. There’s nothing here anymore.”
“But…I chose you, Cody! That’s why I was afraid…because of Jim. But I chose you—I chose you anyway,” I’m crying now.
Cody stares at me; the silence is smothering. “But you didn’t really give me a choice, did you? You chose for me, Charlie. You chose…for me.”
He smacks his hand flat against his chest as he speaks, just to punctuate the words—drive home his point. My heart burns, and I’m sure everything left inside me that was beautiful and good just died right here in Jake’s old garage. All I can see is Cody’s back as he walks away, his fingers threaded together behind his neck, and his knuckles cracking. I hear the office door slam shut, and as soon as he’s out of view, I break down completely, not even trying to temper the whimpers that are escaping my lips.
Gabe’s arms are around me within seconds, and I grip the fabric of his sweatshirt and bury my face under his chin.
“Girly…he didn’t mean it. He’s just torn up. He’s lost,” Gabe says, but I can’t get past what Cody said. I didn’t let him choose. And if I did, he wouldn’t have chosen me.
“Yes…yes, he did,” I say, holding on to that single percent of myself that still believes—Mac’s faint voice telling me to fight, telling me to battle.
Gabe pulls away from me, holding me on either shoulder and forcing me to look at him. “No, he didn’t,” he says, waiting until I nod in understanding. He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials, and I’m relieved to hear his conversation.