“Well, she’s leaving, so it doesn’t matter.”
“You know, there are things called airplanes that fly back and forth between Michigan and Rhode Island.” She turned around and leaned back against the sink, folding her arms. “Perhaps you’ve heard of them.”
“Perhaps you’ve heard of my two children.”
“What about them?”
“I can’t just fly off to Rhode Island when I feel like it. And despite having two jobs, I’m not rolling in money either. I can’t afford a bunch of plane tickets.”
“Excuses, excuses.” She shook her head. “Why won’t you admit she makes you happy?”
“They’re not excuses, Bree,” I said angrily. “I’m not rich. And I’m trying to be a better father than ours was, and that means being there for my kids.”
“You’re not Dad, Dex.” Bree was getting emotional too. “You never have been.”
“That took work!” My body temperature rose as my temper flared. “He was the only example of fatherhood I had, and everything I’ve ever done was to distance myself from that.”
“Exactly!” She shook her head. “You were never afraid of becoming Dad. You were afraid of becoming Mom. You still are.”
“What?” I glared at her.
“You hated the way Mom loved him and kept taking him back. You thought she was gullible and weak.”
“She was!” I exploded. “She let him come back into our lives and hurt her—hurt us—again and again. That’s what happens when you love someone. You give them the means to hurt you!”
“It’s called being vulnerable, Dex, and it’s not a bad thing. It’s healthy! What’s not healthy is keeping your feelings all bottled up inside because you’re afraid to love somebody.”
“I’m not afraid of anything!” I roared.
She held up her palms and lowered her voice. “Okay, okay. Stop shouting.”
But I couldn’t stop—it felt like a volcano was erupting inside me. “And besides the fact that Winnie and I have explicitly agreed to keep things casual, I made up my mind when Naomi and I split that I wasn’t ever going through that again.”
“Not all relationships end badly, Dex. And I never said anything about getting married. I just don’t see why you’d throw away what you guys have when it’s so good.”
“We don’t have anything, Bree,” I snapped. “It’s just sex. That’s it. Sex. So stop trying to put words in my mouth or invent feelings I don’t have. I’m not in love with her. When she leaves, we’re done.”
Bree’s eyes went wide, and she pressed her lips into a thin line. Her focus was over my shoulder, and I knew without turning around that Winnie was standing there. My guts churned.
Closing my eyes, I exhaled, my shoulders dropping.
Behind me, I heard her voice, small and hurt. “Um, I’ll just wait outside. Thanks for everything, Bree.”
When I opened my eyes, I saw my sister with her hands over her mouth. “Think she heard me?”
She nodded.
“Fuck!” I clanked my empty beer bottle on the counter, wishing I could shatter it against the wall—or even better, my stupid skull.
“Hey.” Justin appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Winnie just blew out of here like a hurricane. Everything okay?”
“I gotta go.” I shouldered past him and headed for the door.
Twenty-Two
Winnie
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
Out on the porch, I took a few deep breaths of the crisp October air, trying to keep the sobs from escaping.
I felt like I’d just gotten the wind knocked out of me.
How had this happened? I’d been so careful this time! I’d been so sure I wouldn’t wind up hurt as long as I kept my expectations realistic and my feelings in check.
But you didn’t do that, did you?
A spiteful voice in my head spoke up.
It doesn’t matter what you said you were going to do—it’s what you went ahead and did that matters. And you went ahead and fell for this unavailable guy who told you right from the start that he wasn’t interested in you like that.
Yes, he was a jerk to say those things. But you’re a fool. And only one of you will cry yourself to sleep tonight.
One tear slipped down my cheek, followed by another. Behind me, the door opened, and I swiped at my cheeks, glad for the dark.
“Ready to go?” I asked, proud of how calm my voice sounded.
“Yeah.”
We walked to the car, and I waited stiffly while he unlocked the passenger door. When I got in, I was careful not to brush against him, and I pulled the door shut myself.
Worried he was going to apologize or offer an explanation right there at the curb, I was relieved when he started the car and put it in drive. I really didn’t want to hear him say he was sorry. Not this time.
The ride home was tense and silent. I gripped the edge of my seat as if it was a life raft in choppy waters. When he pulled into his garage, I was quick to unbuckle my seatbelt.
“Winnie, wait.” He reached over and circled my wrist. “Don’t go yet.”
I froze, one hand on the door handle.
“I need to apologize.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“I think you didn’t mean for me to hear it.”
He exhaled. “That’s true, but what I said came out wrong. It’s not just sex between us. I was worked up about things my sister was saying, and I lost my temper.”
“It’s fine. I’m going now.”
But he held on to my wrist. “It’s not fine, Winnie. I said something shitty, and you should call me out on it.”
“Is that what you want?” Snatching my hand from his grip, I shifted to face him. “For me to get so mad I never want to see you again? For me to say shitty things right back to you so I can hurt your feelings the way you hurt mine?”
His jaw was clenched hard. “Yes.”
“Well, that’s not how I work. I don’t treat people I care about that way.”
Exhaling, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate that I hurt you.”
“You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. I’ll live.”
He dropped his hand and looked at me. “Winnie.” His voice cracked.
“I’m just going to be honest, Dex.” I couldn’t stop the tears, so I just let them come. “I know this is not what we planned. I tried really hard not to fall for you. I didn’t want to. But I did.”
“Don’t say it,” he begged.
“I have to. Maybe I’m a fool, but I’m not a coward. I love you. And I don’t want this to end.”
“But you’re leaving,” he blurted. “And I can’t ask you to stay.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Swallowed. “Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not what we said this would be. And you have to follow your dream.”
“But things change,” I wept. “And I have a lot of dreams. One of them is finding someone to share my life with. And if you’re willing to try, maybe we could make it work between us. Maybe I don’t have to leave.”
He shook his head. “It’s better this way, Winnie. You go your way, I go mine.”
“But not if we have feelings for each other! Doesn’t that count for something?” Taking a deep, shaky breath, I forced myself to be brave. “Do you have feelings for me?”
He stared straight ahead. His jaw ticked.
“I know what we used to say in the beginning. But I haven’t heard you say it in a while. Is it still true?”
It seemed like an eternity passed before he answered. And when he spoke, his voice sounded different.
“It’s still true,” he said woodenly. He looked at me, his expression completely blank. “I don’t love you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, the tears hot on my cheeks. “Goodbye, Dex.” Choking back a sob,
I got out of the car, hurried from the garage, and let myself into my front door.
As soon as it was closed, I burst into tears, bawling into my hands, my body shuddering with hurt and humiliation. I wept until my eyes ran dry, and then I went upstairs, scrubbed off the remains of my makeup, and got into bed.
It wasn’t long before sadness filled the well again, and I ended up crying myself to sleep, just as I predicted.
But it was my own fault.
The next day was Sunday, so I should have gone to my parents’ house for dinner, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. My face was puffy, my eyes were bloodshot, and I didn’t feel like explaining to anyone why I looked like a train wreck. Besides, I had a lot of packing to do—the moving truck would be here Wednesday, and I was leaving for Rhode Island on Thursday.
My place hadn’t sold yet, but even though my agent had told me it would show better with furniture, I didn’t want to leave anything behind. It would feel like more of a fresh start if I didn’t have to come back here.
I called my mom and apologized that I wouldn’t be at dinner tonight, blaming my stuffy nose on a nonexistent cold that was going around and my absence on the move.
“Don’t worry about dinner,” she said. “But honey, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said listlessly. “I’m just run down.”
“Why don’t I bring you something to eat?”
“No, Mom, you don’t have to do that. I have things to eat here.” I glanced at my fridge with no appetite whatsoever.
“Well, make sure you eat them. And get a good night’s sleep.”
“I will.”
But after we hung up, I felt so lonely I called Ellie. “Hey. Can you come over?”
“Of course. What’s wrong?”
“Dex and I ended things last night, and I could use a friend,” I said, a sob catching in my throat.
“On my way.”
She showed up with tacos and tequila. “So what happened?” she asked as she poured us each a shot.
“Exactly what I didn’t want to happen,” I said miserably. As I unpacked the tacos from the bag, I told her about what I’d overheard at Bree’s house and the final conversation in the garage.
“Ouch.” She handed me a shot. “I’m sorry, Win.”
“I have no one to blame but myself.” I tossed back the shot, grimacing as it burned its way down my throat. “Well, maybe you.”
She did her shot and winced. “Me! I didn’t tell you to fall for that guy. I just said it was okay to bone him a few times.”
“You should know me by now. I can’t bone anyone without catching feelings.”
She sighed. “You do have that tendency.”
“It was so embarrassing, Ell.” I sank onto a counter stool and dropped my head into my hands. “I told him I loved him.”
“Of course you did.”
I peeked at her. “Don’t poke fun. I really thought this was different. Am I just that dumb?”
Sighing, Ellie poured us each another shot. “You’re not dumb, Win. You just love people easily. It’s who you are.”
“I guess.” I stared at my second shot. “I feel like I’m in that drawing with all the staircases that never go anywhere. I think I’m going up but then I turn and I’m at the bottom. I can’t get out.”
“I know, babe. And I’m sorry. One of these days you’re going to fall for the guy who deserves you.”
“Oh, God.” I looked at her in alarm. “I owe you the thing now, don’t I?”
“I’m thinking maybe I’ll give you a mulligan on this one.” She shrugged. “Seeing as I did encourage you to bone this guy.”
“Thanks. I feel bad enough without adding the weight of that particular humiliation.”
“But one is all you get. If you meet Mr. Right in Rhode Island before Christmas, I own you.” She picked up her shot glass and held it up.
I clinked mine to it. “Deal.”
We did the second shot together and set the glasses down.
“Now let’s eat some tacos and get you packed up for your new life adventure,” she said with a smile. “Because even though I’ll never forgive you for leaving me to deal with Gianni Lupo on my own, you’re still my person, and I’m excited for you. Good things are ahead, Win—I can feel it.”
“Thanks.” I smiled back, grateful for her. “I might have crappy taste in guys, but my taste in friends is impeccable.”
Ellie stayed until after midnight, helping me pack, making me laugh, and doing her best to keep my mind off Dex. I loved her dearly for it and hugged her hard when she left. But when I was alone in my bed, all I could do was think about him on the other side of the wall and wonder if he was as miserable as I was or relieved to be rid of me.
Was I just a fun little side dish to him? Had he been able to keep his real feelings locked away? Could I have mistaken all his sweet gestures and perfect kisses and warm, protective embraces for something they weren’t? Was this just one more link in the chain of infatuations I’d blown all out of proportion?
I couldn’t make myself believe it.
What I felt for Dex was real. What we had together was good.
What we could have been would always make me wonder.
Twenty-Three
Dex
I barely slept Saturday night, and Sunday I skipped going to church. As much as I liked seeing the girls there, I didn’t even feel like I could face them after what I’d done. I was sick to my stomach every time I thought about it.
Instead, I hid out all day in my condo like a criminal—which was exactly how I felt.
I’d done something unpardonable. I’d stolen something valuable. I’d vandalized something beautiful.
And I’d lied to someone who deserved the truth.
But she knew, a stubborn voice in my head would argue. She knew from the beginning what this had to be. It doesn’t matter how I really feel. What good would it do her to hear the words?
I loved her—of course I did. But that kind of love wasn’t stable or dependable. That kind of love wasn’t a solid foundation. It felt strong, but that was an illusion. What love did was drain your strength and take away your ability to make good decisions.
And you couldn’t second-guess yourself. If I’d learned anything as a SEAL sniper, it was that I had to trust myself to make split-second decisions under the most stressful circumstances imaginable—there was no time for doubt or uncertainty. It was a matter of survival.
I’d saved us both.
There was no way she and I could have made things work, not even if she’d stayed here. She was too young. She had everything ahead of her—marriage and kids and her fucking twenties. I was so far removed from that stage of life, where anything seems possible and all your dreams are still alive. And I’d already had my children. What I needed to focus on now was raising them.
She’d been a welcome distraction, but it was over now.
It killed me to think of her hurting, just on the other side of the wall, but I stayed strong.
Someday she’d thank me.
On Monday afternoon, I went to the gym for a few coaching sessions, during which I barked at the guys more than necessary and made them work five times as hard. Usually, they thanked me after training, or stuck around and talked with me a little, but today every single one of them took off as soon as we were done.
Not that I blamed them.
On the way home, I thought about stopping at Justin and Bree’s, but I hadn’t spoken to either of them since Saturday night and didn’t feel like rehashing the breakup. It was too raw.
I knew I owed my sister an apology for yelling at her, and I’d give it, but I wasn’t ready yet. If she started coming at me with all that shit about being afraid to love someone, I’d lose it again.
When I got home, I showered and made myself some dinner, but I had no appetite. Stretching out on the couch, I tried to get Freddie Purrcury to sit with me while I watched TV, but he refused.
“Wh
at did I ever do to you?” I said as he presented me with his ass and put his tail in the air before walking away.
I looked at my cell phone on the coffee table, tempted for the millionth time to call Winnie and ask her how she was feeling. Did she hate me? Would she leave town without speaking to me again? The thought made my heart sink like a stone.
Maybe I could just send her a quick text. Just check in—as a friend. Make sure she was okay.
But the words got stuck between my mind and my fingers, and I couldn’t do it.
Instead, I called the girls to say goodnight. Luna was still in the shower, so I chatted with Hallie for a few minutes. “Are you writing any new stories?” I asked her.
“I’m still working on the one about the ogre and the princess.”
“Oh.” My heart lurched. “So tell me what’s happening.”
“Well, the princess was very brave and went to seek out the ogre in the forest. She finds his cave.”
“How did she know where to look?”
“She followed the sound of his snoring.”
I almost smiled. “Go on.”
“So she calls out to him, and he’s extra grumpy because she woke him up, but he listens to her story about her cat Tigger running up the tree.”
“Does he agree to help?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I frowned, annoyed that even in ogre form I was a jerk.
“Because the ogre has a secret he doesn’t want her to know.”
“And what’s that?”
“He’s afraid of heights.”
“The ogre is afraid of heights?”
“Yes. So he won’t go up the tree to save the cat, but he can’t tell her the real reason, so he just sort of grunts at her and tells her to leave him alone.”
“Does he at least feel bad about it?”
“Yes, because he can hear her crying as she runs back home through the forest. But not bad enough to overcome his fear of heights. He’s a very stubborn ogre.”
Ignite: A Grumpy Single Dad Romance Page 23