Falling For Us Again

16. CHEAT

Chapter 16

CHEAT

Dylan

The town hall smells faintly of old wood and coffee, the kind that’s been reheated one too many times. Around me, the town's committee members sit in folding chairs, some leaning in with too much enthusiasm while others keep their eyes down, hoping to get through the meeting unnoticed.

I drum my fingers on the edge of my chair, half-listening to the chair’s speech about last year’s pie competition disaster, something about cherries and a missing pie crust. I’m not sure. I’m distracted by Tom Harris throwing nervous glances at Maggie, who is seated next to me. She doesn’t seem to notice him, and I chuckle at her obliviousness.

“And that’s why we need stricter rules this year,” Mrs. Thatcher says, folding her arms across her chest, the floral print of her dress somehow too bright for the room.

There’s a murmur of agreement and scattered applause. Then her gaze zeroes in sharply on me.

“Dylan and Maggie, you two will be handling the food stalls again, right?” Her tone doesn’t leave much room for debate, even though she’s framing it like a question. The committee loves to give the illusion of choices, but it’s okay because I enjoy being of service to my community.

Maggie and I exchange humorous glances. We’ve been coming to these town meetings for years, and if there’s one thing we’ve mastered, it’s the art of silent communication. It’s the only way to survive.

“Sure, Mrs. Thatcher. We’ve confirmed all the usuals,” Maggie says. “Yolanda’s Diner is bringing their grill for burgers and hotdogs, and the ice cream truck will be there as well.”

Mrs. Thatcher doesn’t let her finish before waving her off. “That’s good. I trust you two will deliver the best as always. Richard, where are we on logistics?”

The annual fair is coming up, and it’s the most anticipated event in town. I’ve always loved attending the fair since I moved to Hartlow, and now as an adult, I contribute my efforts to the planning, ensuring it remains as joyful and memorable as it was in my teens.

My mind drift back to the first fair I attended after moving to Hartlow, and my lips curl into a small smile. I’d attended with some guys from school, and I remember how much fun we had flirting with all the girls.

My attention kept drifting to the entrance, wishing Jenna to appear. I had casually asked if she was attending, and she recoiled as if in horror at the thought. I tried to convince her that it would be fun, and she should join me, but she wasn’t convinced.

Just when I had given up on the idea of her coming, she appeared, eyes darting around nervously, her hands twisting the hem of her short dress. I ran to her with the biggest grin on my face. I ditched my friends and ended up hanging out with her the entire day.

The next year at the fair, I asked her to be my girlfriend, and she agreed. That was one of the happiest moments of my life, and I thought we would always be together.

I shift in my seat determined to not go down that memory hole. Scattered laughter rips through the room pulls me back, and I listen half-heartedly as Mrs. Thatcher berates George about last year’s parking situation.

I lean back in my chair, glancing over at Tom, who’s still openly staring at Maggie as she laughs. The expression on his face is exactly what you would describe as ‘puppy dog’; his lips curl into a smile as he watches her smile. The whole situation is humorous to me.

I nudge Maggie beside me and whisper to her. “Don’t look now, but you have an admirer.”

She giggles. “Oh, who? You?”

“Tom Harris.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically, her lips twitching into a grin. “Oh, please.”

I shake my head at her. “I’m serious! He’s definitely got the hots for you. You should give him a chance. He’s a good man.”

She chuckles.

Thirty minutes later, the meeting finally wraps up. People shuffle out of the hall, eager to reclaim their Saturday night. I stand and stretch, my limbs stiff from sitting for so long.

Maggie nudges me with her elbow.

“Wanna hit the bar with Lola and the others?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

I shrug. “Why not? Could use a drink after that and we get to discuss this new admirer.”

“You’re making things up now.”

“I swear he was looking at you like a puppy dog. It was kinda cute.”

“I didn’t notice.”

“Ms. Oblivious. That’s why you’re still single.”

“Ouch,” She chuckles. “I thought I told you about my situation.”

“And we agreed that guy’s a damn fool.”

She smiles, throwing a glance at me. “He sure is.”

We make our way outside, and a few of the others—Lola, Jake, and some folks from the committee—are already huddled together, making plans. These are the moments I enjoy the most. Nothing beats hanging out with your best pals.

Maggie and I exchange glances as we see Tom; he’s talking to Lola. I wink at her and whisper. “He’s even hanging around because of you.”

“When did you add being an insufferable matchmaker to your traits? Anyone would be doomed to take advice from you.” She waves me off, a laugh bubbling in her voice.

“Let’s hit up O’Malley’s,” Lola says, her voice a little too loudly, the way it always gets when she’s in the mood to cut loose. “First round’s on me!”

O’Malley’s isn’t anything special—a local dive bar with worn-out stools and a jukebox that skips every third song—but it’s ours. It’s where we go when we want to forget about the world outside for a little while. We all pile into our cars, and ten minutes later, we’re crammed into a booth at the bar, drinks in hand.

Vivian—a fellow committee member and one of the girls we went to school with—leans in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, Dylan, how’s that food stall planning coming along?” She’s leaning so much that I can see just enough of her cleavage, and her fingers lightly touch my arm. Vivian flirts a lot with me, but I’ve never had any interest in her. Maggie teases me about it every time Vivian comes around, but I dismiss it.

I grin. “Oh, you know, just trying to figure out how to avoid another pie-related incident. Maybe I’ll ban cherries this year.”

Jake laughs from across the table. “Good luck with that. You know Mrs. Thatcher would skin you alive if you tried.”

We all laugh, the sound filling the dimly lit bar, and for a moment, everything feels easy. Like we’re back in high school again, teasing each other over drinks and making plans we never really intend to follow through on.

The night stretches on, the drinks keep coming, and soon enough, Lola is slurring her words and telling everyone she loves them.

“I love you, Maggie,” Lola says, cupping Maggie’s face in her hands, giggling uncontrollably. “I really do.” She throws her arms around Maggie, who shakes her head at her drunken display.

“Okay, lightweight, time to call it a night,” Maggie says, pulling Lola to her feet, though she’s barely able to stand on her own.

I stand too, stretching. “I’ll help you get her home.”

“You’re leaving, Dylan?” Vivian asks with a pout. “I’m a little drunk too; maybe you can help me get home.”

“I can help you get home, Viv,” Paul, one of our other friends, immediately offers.

Vivian throws him a snarky look before downing the shot in her hand. Maggie chuckles softly beside me.

We say our goodbyes while the rest of the group stays behind to enjoy the night some more. As we make our way out of the bar, the cool night air hits like a slap to the face. I glance up at the stars scattered across the sky, bright and indifferent to our worries.

We’re halfway to the car when I spot something out of the corner of my eye. A couple standing near the edge of the parking lot, half-hidden in the shadows. I’m about to look away, dismissing them as lovers hanging around when I hear the man’s voice.

My eyes narrow, and then I freeze.

It’s Brian. Lola’s fiancé.

And he’s not alone.

He’s leaning against his car, arms wrapped around a woman who isn’t Lola, their lips locked in a passionate kiss.

I cock my head in disbelief. Brian doesn’t see me at first, too caught up in the moment, but then his eyes flicker open, and they meet mine across the distance.

He pulls away from the woman quickly, his face pale in the dim light. We stare at each other, the silence between us heavy, the unspoken threat hanging in the air. His eyes dart to Lola in my arms, and his mouth falls open as he registers her presence. Maggie is beside me, still holding onto Lola, but her grip on my arm tightens, sensing the shift in the air.

“Dylan?” Maggie whispers behind me, her voice laced with confusion at my sudden stop.

“Get Lola back inside.”

Maggie steps beside me, and then she looks between me and Brian, her eyes widening in realization. She doesn’t ask questions; she just nods and pulls Lola back toward the bar, whispering something soothing to her.

Lola, blissfully unaware, just giggles and stumbles along.

I watch as Brian untangles himself from the woman, saying something to her before she slips into the passenger seat of his car. He moves toward me, his face twisted with something that might be guilt or maybe anger. It’s hard to tell.

“Dylan,” he starts, his voice low, cautious, like he’s trying to figure out how to play this.

I don’t let him finish. “What the hell are you doing, Brian?” My voice comes like whiplash. “You’re cheating on Lola, your fiancée. Seriously, man?”

He rubs the back of his neck, looking away. “It’s... it’s not what it looks like.”

“Not what it looks like?” I repeat, incredulous. “You were kissing another woman, Brian. How’s that not exactly what it looks like?”

He doesn’t have an answer for that, and the silence between us stretches, thick and uncomfortable. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my fists clenching at my sides. I want to punch him to wipe that guilty look off his face, but I know it won’t fix anything. It won’t change what I just saw.

And I know my anger is not just about seeing Brian cheating on Lola; it reminds me of Jenna once again. The pain I felt when I saw pictures of her with my ex-best friend, Paul. I’ve never felt as much betrayal as I did that day.

I can’t stand cheats.

“I’ll talk to her,” Brian finally says, his voice soft, almost pleading. “I’ll make it right.”

I shake my head, disgusted. “You don’t get to ‘make it right.’ You don’t get to hurt her like this and then just sweep it under the rug.”

Brian’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he’s going to argue, but then he just nods, stepping back toward his car. “I’ll fix it,” he says again, though this time it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself.

I don’t respond. I just watch as he gets in his car, the engine roaring to life as he drives off into the night. My fists slowly unclench, and I let out a breath. I don’t realize that I’m holding.

“Piece of shit,” I mutter under my breath.

I walk back to the bar, my steps slow and steady. Inside, Maggie is sitting with Lola at a booth, her arm draped around her friend’s shoulders. Lola is laughing, oblivious, her eyes glazed over from too much alcohol.

Maggie looks up at me, her expression grim. “What are we going to do?” she asks quietly, though I can see the answer already forming in her mind.

“We take her home,” I say, my voice flat. “She doesn’t need to know about this. Not tonight.”

Maggie nods, her lips pressing into a thin line. Together, we help Lola out of the bar and into my car, her drunken laughter filling the space as we drive. She slumps against the window, her breath fogging up the glass, and I can’t stop thinking about how this is all going to come crashing down around her.

When we pull up to her house, we help Lola inside, laying her gently on the couch. She murmurs something incoherent, and then she’s out, her breathing slow and steady. I stand there for a moment, watching her sleep, my chest tight with the weight of everything that just happened.

I feel sorry for her.

After we step back outside, I drive Maggie to her place. She reaches over and touches my arm as I drive, her fingers cool against my skin. “Are you going to tell her?” she asks, her expression tinged with worry.

I don’t answer right away. I don’t know what the right thing to do is. Lola deserves the truth, but is it my place to tell her? And if I do, I’m going to be partly responsible for ruining her life.

“I don’t know, Mag,” I say eventually, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.

Maggie touches my arm again, her voice low. “She’s going to be devastated.”

“I know,” I shake my head. “But she’ll be better off without him.”