Chapter 100: The Night Feels Lighter

Max stayed quiet…

“I just found out about Damon and her…” Valerie said, pausing like she needed to brace herself for the words. “Last night, I went through his phone…for the first time in five years of marriage. I wanted to know more about Lindsay, the woman he’s been cheating on me with. And God, I wish I hadn’t.”

She swallowed, like the next words were burning her throat. “When I saw Kayla's name show up… The same Kayla I used to stay up late studying with. The one who helped me pick out my wedding dress.” She let out a shaky breath. “She knew everything, Max. Every detail about my marriage, about me, and she still… she still went there.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “I wasn’t just betrayed. I was humiliated.”

Max’s jaw tensed. “So the night you were hit—”

“Yeah, I was supposed to meet her,” Valerie said quietly. “She never showed up. I texted, called, nothing.” She trailed off, eyes distant.

For a moment, only the wind filled the silence.

Max exhaled slowly. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

She smiled faintly, though her eyes glistened. “Guess I’m not the best at picking people.”

He shook his head. “Or maybe you just gave the wrong ones too many chances.”

Valerie looked over, meeting his gaze. “You know what? You were there that night, you know. I’m sure you had noticed her. She’s not easy to miss.”

Max blinked. “What night?”

“The café,” Valerie said softly. “Five, six years ago. My friends and I came in late, loud, obnoxious, probably annoying the hell out of everyone there.”

Max’s mouth twitched. “Oh, I remember that night.”

“Yeah?” she asked, arching a brow. “Then you probably remember the dare, too.”

His grin grew slow and knowing. “The one where you walked straight up to me and told me your friends dared you to kiss me?”

Valerie laughed quietly, embarrassed but a little flushed. “God, don’t remind me. It was stupid.”

He tilted his head, eyes dark with memory. “You kissed me first, remember? Barely more than a peck. I told you it wasn’t a real kiss.”

Her breath hitched as she met his gaze. “Yeah,” she murmured. “And then you showed me what a real one was in that little room.”

Max’s grin turned wicked.

She shook her head slowly, a soft, helpless smile tugging at her lips. “You were cocky even back then.”

“Not cocky,” he said, leaning in just a little. “Just… sure that if I kissed you right, you’d kiss me back.”

Her lips curved faintly, eyes glinting. “You were right.”

He let out a low chuckle, gaze lingering on her mouth. “I still am.”

She took a deep breath and turned away. "Well, that dare... Kayla supported it… encouraged it."

“Then I guess I owe Kayla and your other friends a thank you. If it wasn’t for that dare….”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile on her lips. “You were so smug that night. You looked like you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“I did,” Max said, still smiling. “And I remember thinking you had the kind of smile that could ruin a man. Guess I wasn’t wrong.”

“You were trouble then, and you’re trouble now,” she commented.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I'm worth the trouble, though.”

She smiled but didn’t answer. And her gaze drifted away. “You know what’s crazy?” she said finally. “Damon and I used to talk the same way we're doing now. ”

Max looked over at her.

“And you know what else?” she continued. “Their messages went back months. Even years.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “And they weren’t just texts, Max. They were… explicit. Pictures. Videos. She’d send him photos of herself...naked, touching herself, and he’d tell her exactly what he wanted to do to her. All of it. Every filthy word.”

She laughed under her breath, short and bitter.

Max looked away, staring out into the distance, the muscle in his cheek ticking. “What a fucking piece of work,” he muttered.

Valerie exhaled shakily. “Yeah. It was like watching everything I thought we had…rot from the inside out. I didn’t even know what was worse. The fact that he cheated, or that he made it look so easy.”

Max turned toward her again. “You shouldn’t have had to see that. Any of it.”

She gave him a small, tired smile. “Well, I did. And now I can’t unsee what I saw. Dammit.”

He reached out, brushing his thumb gently across her hand. “Maybe now you’ll finally stop wasting your time on a piece of shit. ”

Valerie let out a slow exhale, then gave a small, pained laugh. “It didn’t even sound like them. Not like the people I knew. Reading it felt like watching two strangers. I didn’t even recognize Damon. And Kayla—she sounded like she’d been waiting for that chance all along.”

Her voice faltered then. The words came slower, shakier. “I just… I keep thinking of every time she looked me in the eye. Every brunch, every stupid girls’ trip we took. And now all I can see are lies.”

She covered her face with her hands, her breath catching as the tears finally came. Max moved closer, wrapping his arm around her, pulling her against his chest. He didn’t say anything right away—just held her, his thumb brushing gently over her shoulder while she tried to catch her breath.

“I’m here,” he said after a while. “You don’t have to hold it in.”

Valerie shook her head against him, her voice muffled. “He’s cheated on me with two women that I know of. Two. God knows how many more there are. It’s not even the number that hurts—it’s how easy it seemed for him.”

She sat up, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, her eyes still glassy. “And before you think I’m crying because I still love him—I’m not.” She swallowed hard. “I’m crying because I can’t believe I meant so little to them. Kayla hurt me more than Damon did. She was supposed to be my friend and still went behind my back.”

Max looked at her, his chest tight. “You didn’t deserve any of this,” he said quietly. “Not from him. And definitely not from her.”

Valerie gave a tired nod, her voice barely above a whisper. “And it’s strange. I thought after everything I’d learned from the first time I caught him cheating, I’d be numb by now. But I’m not. It still hurts.”

Max reached for her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “You don’t have to be numb,” he said. “You just have to get through tonight. One night at a time.”

Valerie didn’t answer, but she didn’t pull her hand away either. They sat there in silence. The air felt lighter somehow, though the ache in her heart lingered.

For the first time in a long while, Valerie let herself lean into someone without overthinking it—just breathing, just existing, as the weight of everything she’d been carrying began, little by little, to loosen its hold.