their relationship forward.
Nick tensed, contemplating her betrayal.
Vivienne mewed. "I can't expect you to understand."
"I understand that you were kissing a woman and letting her slide into third base. That wasn't a one-time thing. Can't you just admit it?"
Vivienne's pale eyes shined. She didn't speak.
"You have nothing to say." Nick felt his anger burn again. "We've been dating—sleeping together—for over a year, and you call me to your house to show me lesbian blackmail pictures and beg for my help. But you don't think I'm owed any explanation. Boy, you are definitely a Moran."
"Fuck you, Nick. Do you have any idea how hard this is for me? I'm humiliated."
Nick snorted. "More or less humiliated than finding out that the best way you have to save your relationship is to have a sex change."
She glared at him. "This isn't a joke. I'm not a joke."
"No, you're a liar."
"I never lied to you. I wanted to be with you. I still do. Those pictures don't change that."
"But they do, Vivienne. I can't pretend like I didn't see them. Or that I didn't see how much more passionate you were in those grainy, fucking Bigfoot-quality pictures than you've ever been with me."
"And that's my fault?" Vivienne's snide tone barely concealed her defensiveness.
"Well, it isn't mine, sweetheart. So, why don't you just tell the truth. How many times have you 'experimented' as you call it?"
Vivienne flushed and pursed her lips. "Lots of women have liaisons with other women in college and what not. It's not a big deal."
"So, those pictures are from college?"
"No."
"When were they taken?"
Vivienne paused. "December. A few days before we went to Paris."
"A few days before I proposed to you?"
"Yes, but I haven't been with a woman since. I swear."
"But you were with women before we got engaged."
"I don't ask you about your past lovers, and I don't see how rehashing mine does any good."
Her evasions galled him. Somehow, she convinced herself that her sexual orientation didn't matter. To Vivienne, being gay was a side note to their potential marriage. Nick could only shake his head.
"You're telling me that you aren't gay."
"Why do you have to label everything? Isn't it enough that I'm committed to you?
"No," he barked. "It isn't. I want a real marriage with a woman who wants me. I deserve that, and frankly, so do you."
"We make an amazing team, Nick. I can help you make partner. Don't you want that?"
"What are you talking about? Forget everything else, Viv. Perception. Ambition. Even this blackmailer. In your heart of hearts, who are you?"
"You're reducing all of who I am to sex."
"No. I'm asking you, for the love of God, to be honest with me."
Her shoulders slumped, and tears sprang back into her eyes. "I don't say it out loud."
"Why not?"
"Because that can't be my life. My life is with you."
The sadness of Vivienne's proclamation made Nick's stomach clench.
Visions of the life he'd thought they'd have together went up in smoke—the home, the house full of kids, and Vivienne as the perfect companion.
He'd figured it was the time to settle down and, once and for all, find the one right woman for his life—not just for the night. All signs pointed to Vivienne. With her, his life had started falling into place. Was he that foolish? Or was she that great at pretending? Probably both, but it couldn't continue.
"No. Your life is not with me. I can't marry you. You know that. You knew it when you decided to ask for my help. That's why you waited so long. I'll help you with this…this person who's after you, but I'm not going to marry you. We have to call off the wedding. We need to put a stop to this right now. I'm sitting around in limbo with people who don't know we were having trouble asking me if we've set a date. My mom keeps giving me pitying looks. Hell, I've got your father pestering me to make sure I get you down the aisle."
Nick rambled on, not realizing Vivienne had stayed silent until he caught her watching him
Nick tensed, contemplating her betrayal.
Vivienne mewed. "I can't expect you to understand."
"I understand that you were kissing a woman and letting her slide into third base. That wasn't a one-time thing. Can't you just admit it?"
Vivienne's pale eyes shined. She didn't speak.
"You have nothing to say." Nick felt his anger burn again. "We've been dating—sleeping together—for over a year, and you call me to your house to show me lesbian blackmail pictures and beg for my help. But you don't think I'm owed any explanation. Boy, you are definitely a Moran."
"Fuck you, Nick. Do you have any idea how hard this is for me? I'm humiliated."
Nick snorted. "More or less humiliated than finding out that the best way you have to save your relationship is to have a sex change."
She glared at him. "This isn't a joke. I'm not a joke."
"No, you're a liar."
"I never lied to you. I wanted to be with you. I still do. Those pictures don't change that."
"But they do, Vivienne. I can't pretend like I didn't see them. Or that I didn't see how much more passionate you were in those grainy, fucking Bigfoot-quality pictures than you've ever been with me."
"And that's my fault?" Vivienne's snide tone barely concealed her defensiveness.
"Well, it isn't mine, sweetheart. So, why don't you just tell the truth. How many times have you 'experimented' as you call it?"
Vivienne flushed and pursed her lips. "Lots of women have liaisons with other women in college and what not. It's not a big deal."
"So, those pictures are from college?"
"No."
"When were they taken?"
Vivienne paused. "December. A few days before we went to Paris."
"A few days before I proposed to you?"
"Yes, but I haven't been with a woman since. I swear."
"But you were with women before we got engaged."
"I don't ask you about your past lovers, and I don't see how rehashing mine does any good."
Her evasions galled him. Somehow, she convinced herself that her sexual orientation didn't matter. To Vivienne, being gay was a side note to their potential marriage. Nick could only shake his head.
"You're telling me that you aren't gay."
"Why do you have to label everything? Isn't it enough that I'm committed to you?
"No," he barked. "It isn't. I want a real marriage with a woman who wants me. I deserve that, and frankly, so do you."
"We make an amazing team, Nick. I can help you make partner. Don't you want that?"
"What are you talking about? Forget everything else, Viv. Perception. Ambition. Even this blackmailer. In your heart of hearts, who are you?"
"You're reducing all of who I am to sex."
"No. I'm asking you, for the love of God, to be honest with me."
Her shoulders slumped, and tears sprang back into her eyes. "I don't say it out loud."
"Why not?"
"Because that can't be my life. My life is with you."
The sadness of Vivienne's proclamation made Nick's stomach clench.
Visions of the life he'd thought they'd have together went up in smoke—the home, the house full of kids, and Vivienne as the perfect companion.
He'd figured it was the time to settle down and, once and for all, find the one right woman for his life—not just for the night. All signs pointed to Vivienne. With her, his life had started falling into place. Was he that foolish? Or was she that great at pretending? Probably both, but it couldn't continue.
"No. Your life is not with me. I can't marry you. You know that. You knew it when you decided to ask for my help. That's why you waited so long. I'll help you with this…this person who's after you, but I'm not going to marry you. We have to call off the wedding. We need to put a stop to this right now. I'm sitting around in limbo with people who don't know we were having trouble asking me if we've set a date. My mom keeps giving me pitying looks. Hell, I've got your father pestering me to make sure I get you down the aisle."
Nick rambled on, not realizing Vivienne had stayed silent until he caught her watching him
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