"Look, I never promised you I wouldn't tell him! And I don't want you involved with this lunatic who gets his jollies beating the crap out of you!"
Greg looked at me like a little kid who was just about to get his favorite toy taken away from him. Why'd he have to look like that?? This guy Steve was nothing but trouble with a capital "T"!
"Don't look at me like that. I told him because he deserved to know and because if he knew what this guy was really like, he'd be as worried about you as I am!"
"You didn't tell him about what happened did you?!?!" he asked, panicked.
I should've, I could've. I had the chance. "No..."
Greg breathed a sigh of relief. "Was he...you know...was he angry?
"No Greg, he was ecstatic! He can't wait to break the glass at your wedding. Or was it break your face at his funeral? Yes, he was angry and hurt -- and justifiably so I might add."
"Why?!? I didn't go after Steve. He came after me. It wasn't my fault he wasn't attracted to Hugo..."
He had a point there. But still..."You didn't have to leap head first into his bed! Couldn't have you at least played hard to get for like --- a day?!? And he couldn't be a nice guy....NO! You have to get yourself all tied up with OJ Simpson's white evil twin."
Greg sank down into the couch, his eyes wet with tears. I'd gone too far. But how far is too far? Hugo's heart is wounded, and so is Greg's-- not to mention his abdomen, arms, and legs.
I looked at Greg and thought of Hugo. I plotted my revenge on Steve and wondered how he'd like to get his balls ripped off. Oooh, ouch.
At that moment, I felt sorry for all these guys, and enjoyed being a girl.
