Reparation Page 28

Ellie's abusive ex-husband, Robert Carmichael, lived in upstate New York. Or rather, he hid. Jameson had once threatened to rip his jaw off, after he had slapped Tatum. When Ellie had first left him, Robert tried to get back together with her, but after he found out she had run away to Tate's apartment, he had left her alone. Granted her anything she wanted in the divorce.

Sometimes, Jameson being the devil was a very good thing.

“I hope not. I'll call him after it happens. He's not getting any custodial rights, so I don't know why he would,” Ellie snarled. Tate nodded.

“Good plan. So does Ang, like, go to lamaze classes with you?” Tate couldn't help but snicker. Ellie shook her head.

“Oh, no. We're not into all that, we're more like you and Jameson,” she said quickly. Tate's ears perked up.

“Excuse me? What do you mean?” she asked.

“Just sex. You know, like -,” Ellie started to explain again. Tate shook her head.

“Wait, wait, wait. What are you saying? You guys just have sex, and that's it? You're not boyfriend-girlfriend?” she clarified. Ellie nodded.

“Well, yeah. We don't go on dates, or stuff like that,” she said.

“But ..., but I thought you guys were dating. The word dating implies going on dates. He calls you his girlfriend,” Tate stressed. Ellie rolled her eyes.

“I know, it's horrible. I can't figure out how to tell him we're not like that,” she replied. Tate nearly choked on a pretzel.

“Apparently you are like that! Ellie, Ang hasn't had a girlfriend the entire time I've known him. He's a sex-machine, only uses women for one thing. If he calls you his girlfriend, then you're his goddamn girlfriend!” Tate snapped. Ellie frowned.

“I thought you were the liberal thinker, here. I'm just trying to be like you, you know, sow my wild oats. I never meant for him to get so attached,” Ellie whined.

“Be like me!? Ellie, I never pretended to be a guy's girlfriend so he would fuck me. I would never do something like that – I'm always honest. And don't say you guys are like Jameson and I, you don't know the first thing about us,” she argued. Tate. Was. Pissed. Ang had defended Ellie. Tate had felt guilty over Ellie. Ellie had only cared about Ellie. Big fuckin' surprise.

“I know that you guys use each other for sex. How come it's okay for the two of you to do it, but no one else!? Not me, not Angier?” Ellie snapped back.

“Don't call him that!” Tate yelled, jumping out of her chair and slamming her hands on the counter top. “His name is Ang! And you better fucking call Ang and tell him exactly what you just told me, or I will!”

“Stop being so dramatic, Tatum. I'll tell him in my own good time. It's not like I hate him. I like spending time with him, we have fun. I'm just never going to be with someone like him, we both know that,” Ellie stressed.

“I don't think he knows that. I can't believe you. Daddy won't even speak to you because he's such a fucking snob, and you're still the exact same way! You need to talk to him, Ellie. Seriously,” Tate insisted. Ellie sighed and lumbered to her feet.

“If I had known you were only going to bring me here to yell at me, I wouldn't have bothered,” she grumbled, pulling on her purse.

“I wasn't planning on yelling at you – but you're using my best friend. You came between us, made us fight. Serious shit, Ellie. You can't just tell me it was all over nothing, over sex,” Tate said, following Ellie out into the hallway.

“I'm so surprised at your reaction – I honestly thought you'd be proud of me. The way Jameson talked at home, the only thing you two care about -,”

“Shut the fuck up, right now. You don't know shit about what goes on between me and him. Is that what this is about? I fucked your boyfriend, so you fucked Ang!?” Tate demanded.

“No. I mean, it's still messed up that you slept with Jameson, when he was my boyfriend. Even you have to know that wasn't right. Angier was never your boyfriend, so I still haven't done anything wrong,” Ellie replied, standing in front of the door. Tate let her jaw drop open.

“Jameson and I never planned that night, it wasn't like we were carrying on some illicit affair behind your back for months and months. It just happened. Get the fuck over it. You are using Ang – I never did that to you,” Tate pointed out, her voice loud. Heated.

“No, what you did was worse. You always bitch that I ruined your life. Well, you kinda ruined mine, too, you know,” Ellie reminded her. Tate threw her hands up.

“Seriously!? HE WAS NEVER GOING TO MARRY YOU! It is time to let him go!” Tate insisted.

“I have, I am over it, I just don't think it's fair. I don't think it's right, that you're sitting in this house, pretending to be some fairy tale princess with him, when I was the one -,” Ellie started.

She had expected it to happen sooner, so Tate wasn't shocked when she heard the library door open. Jameson casually strode down the hall and stood behind Tate. Ellie looked stunned; no one had told her that Satan was in residence.

“Ladies. I am trying to get some work done. What seems to be the problem?” he asked.

Tate knew he was being facetious, but both she and Ellie burst out yelling at the same time. Curses were thrown, fingers pointed, Ang's name yelled a lot. Sanders eventually appeared from somewhere, and soon the two men were between them. Sanders was urging Tate backwards towards the library. She hopped around on her toes, watching as Jameson blocked Ellie from her.

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