1.
Tiffany is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in real life.
She holds out her hand when she greets me, and I hesitate to take it. No, I haven’t forgotten my manners. I just don’t know how to behave around someone who looks like they just stepped out of a magazine.
“You must be Violet,” she says with a smile. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
I take a deep breath and shake her hand. Somehow, she doesn’t break and I don’t pass out. It’s a win-win for both of us.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” I say to her. “I know it’s kind of weird.”
She waves her hand, letting me know that it’s not a big deal to her, then she steps aside and ushers me into her home. Slowly, I make my way into the living room, trying to focus on why I’m here. I’m here because of Sean. I’m here to hear her side. I’m here to figure out where to go from here.
I’m here because I am so fucking lost that I don’t know which way is up.
Tiffany is the only person I can talk to, the only one who will understand how I feel.
When Sean told me about his past, I expected it to be something bad. What else would explain his weird behavior? What else would explain the way he randomly missed work or how he was afraid to let me spend the night in his room?
For a billionaire boyfriend, he's perfect in almost every way.
Except this one.
And I just don't know what to do.
“So you want to talk about Sean,” she says, making herself comfortable on her oversized leather sofa. I take a seat across from her in a chair and nod. I like that she doesn’t bother with pleasantries. She doesn’t waste time talking about her house or her perfect life. She doesn’t make me come up with a paragraph-sized introduction to myself. She just jumps right in.
“We’ve been seeing each other for just a few weeks,” I say. It’s hard to believe that it hasn’t been very long. It’s tough for me to realize that two months ago, I had no idea who Sean Moormead was. I didn’t know what he looked like, what he did for work, what he tasted like. I didn’t know how hard he could make me cum or how much I would cry over him.
I didn’t know he had PTSD or that he had broken his ex-girlfriend’s wrist during a nightmare.
I didn’t know I would have to make a choice.
“And you just found out about the PTSD,” Tiffany finishes for me.
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s only been a few days, but it’s really overwhelming. I kind of feel like I got blindsided.”
“I get it,” she nods. “You’re crazy about him and you’re wondering if he could be ‘the one,’ all that. Then you find out that the man of your dreams has this horrible secret. It’s natural to be scared.” She seems very calm. Too calm, like she's been through this many times before, like all of this is old news to her.
“You didn’t stay,” I say slowly, wondering how to broach the topic of Sean hurting her. Sean said that after his nightmare that day, she ran out and he didn't hear from her for weeks. When she finally called, it was to tell him that she was leaving. Not just him. She was leaving Pinebluff. She needed to get away. She needed a fresh start.
“I didn’t stay. I couldn’t. Not after what happened. Violet, Sean’s a good guy,” Tiffany assures me. “And now that he’s gotten the help that he needs, he has things much more under control than when we were together. When he came back from his deployment, he wasn’t the guy I fell in love with. He was dark. He was depressed. He was sad. He wouldn’t get help and I didn’t know what to do. We both knew something was wrong, but we were so damn young and naïve that we had no idea what steps to take.”
I find it hard to picture Tiffany as anything but what she is right now: a 30-something mother of two. She’s married, she has two little girls, and she lives in a huge house in a great part of town. Her husband is successful and she gets to stay at home with her kids. Her life seems
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