Taylor’s eyes filled with concern. “Okay.”
Did she really tell a social worker about Zach and our situation? Would she do something like that? Was I wrong to trust her? Or was I jumping to conclusions? As I followed her back to my office, I watched the gentle sway of her hips and wondered if I was doing the right thing. Was I ruining us by confronting her? Shouldn’t I trust that she would never contact family services? My stomach churned with confusion and anger. I had to know. Once the door clicked shut behind us, Taylor stopped in front of my desk and turned to me.
“Did you talk to someone at family services?”
Taylor’s eyes turned wary and unsure. “I talk to family services as part of my job.”
I didn’t like how she seemed reluctant to say anything else. “Let me be real clear.” My voice was cold and stilted. “Did you talk to family services about Zach?”
“No, why would you think that?” Her hands shook a little and she took a slight step back.
She stopped herself in time, but I still caught the movement. She was nervous and maybe feeling guilty and I had to know why. “Because someone,” I pulled Angela Glover’s card out of my pocket and slammed it on the desk next to us causing Taylor to jump, “from family services knocked on my door today.”
She didn’t look at the card. “And you think I must have called them?” Her voice was rising now with anger.
“You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with it?” I was supposed to trust her, but it was hard when I’d never trusted anyone before. The more likely person was Lizzie, but I knew people like her and my mother. They wouldn’t seek out family services. Keep everything to ourselves was practically our family motto and Lizzie was the same. Why would she invite a family services worker into her home when she wasn’t providing Zach with enough food and she was pressuring him to quit school? She wasn’t a model mother. She had things to hide.
Taylor’s eyes sparked with fire. “Yeah, I do. I expect you to trust me.” Searching my face, she continued, “We love each other, don’t we?”
The foot separating us was a divide I couldn’t breach and every word forced us farther apart. “But you didn’t deny it. You asked why would I think that of you? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you left your family, your disabled brother to come here to replace Caleb with Zach. We’re just some project to you—someone to save to make yourself feel better.” I could see it clearly now. We were nothing more than a replacement for her. She needed purpose in her life, and we were it.
She sucked in a harsh breath and her eyes filled with pain. “So, which is it? Am I a selfish bitch for leaving my brother or am I bitch for replacing him with Zach?”
Shaking my head, knowing I was way over the line with her, I said, “Either, both, it doesn’t matter.” I knew I was supposed to trust her but whatever trust I had in her—in our relationship—was like a fog dissipating with every word out of her mouth that wasn’t I didn’t talk to family services.
“You need to trust me. That’s what a relationship is. I can’t believe you think I’d go behind your back and report Zach’s situation.”
I laughed bitterly. “I never said we were in a relationship.” I was technically right, but I’d never thought about it until now. It had been a relationship to me. I knew I was lashing out. I was being an asshole, but I was backed against a wall and I resorted to old defenses—strike first.
“What would you call staying together each night, fucking without a condom, and saying we love each other?” Her eyes were spitting fire, her hands on her hips, as she waited for my response.
“Stupid.” I’d never felt more vulnerable in my life. I’d given everything to this woman, and she’d betrayed me. I knew the moment she walked into my bar in her black suit, red heels, and sporting that badge, she was no good for me. She was just like Selena. I was good for a quick diversion before they went back to their real lives—the ones their parents approved of.
“Oh, really?” Tears filled her eyes and I had to look away.
I knew accusing her of leaving Caleb would get to her. The words were like a knife to someone who was so good—so nice—so willing to help others. But I had to push her away. Between Ms. Glover’s visit, the fear that Lizzie accused me of sexual assault, and the horrible idea that I’d allowed myself to trust someone who could have betrayed me, I was a mess.
“I was stupid to think I could help you—I could change you. People don’t change. You’re always going to believe the worst in yourself and others. Nothing I could ever say will change your mind and I’m done trying.”
I was throwing up all of my defenses so nothing she’d say or do would penetrate. “Do you feel better blaming me for your betrayal?”
Her shoulders slumped as the fight seemed to drain from her. “No, it’s sad. You’re sad. I loved you, Gabe,” she looked at me with pleading eyes, “and you’re being an idiot. You fucked up before and I took you back. I told you not to do it again. I have pride too, you know. I’m worth more than being accused of this.” She took a deep breath. “I’m worth more than you.”
Those words were like a punch to the gut because that’s what I’d always believed deep down—she was better than me. I couldn’t stop my next words from coming
