Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“She baked cookies and cupcakes with Sarah. I remember her telling me about her. But then, one day, she was just gone. Sarah was sad about it,” Oakley said, still looking unhappy about this.
I nodded. “Yeah. Shiloh lost her memory in a car accident and forgot her past with Gage. He didn’t. She ended up falling in love with him again. Job over. End of story.” At least, that was all I was telling her.
“But you liked her,” she said.
I let out a laugh. “Yeah. I guess I did. But I don’t anymore.”
She nodded tightly and walked over to the table without another glance at me. Was she angry?
“Oakley, what is wrong?” I asked, already knowing I should let it go.
She picked up her water and shrugged, but didn’t look back at me.
Dammit! This was ridiculous. Shiloh was almost two years ago. We hadn’t even kissed. What did it matter anyway?
“Oakley,” I said, annoyed, “you can’t be upset over some female from my past who was nothing more than a friend. There are two men in that house who you were in a relationship with. One who proposed to you. And let’s not forget that we are here because the man you are dating put a fucking bomb in your car to get to me.”
She put the water back down before turning around to look at me. Was it always going to be like this? When I saw her face, those eyes, was I going to feel like I’d been kicked in the chest? Would that never go away?
“I never loved them,” she said, her eyes shining with unshed tears that I didn’t understand, and I wished like hell I could make them stop.
“I didn’t love Shiloh either,” I replied, feeling helpless.
“And you never loved me,” she said with a slight shrug of her shoulders.
I studied her for a moment just to be sure she was serious. That she meant what she was saying. The wetness brimming in her eyes gave me my answer.
“You believe that?” I asked her, feeling like it was impossible for her to think that.
She nodded just as a tear broke free and rolled down her face. She quickly wiped it away and sniffled, straightening her shoulders. She didn’t want me to see her cry, and that got to me even more.
“Oakley, I’m pretty damn sure I fell in love with you the night I walked into the fucking burger joint and saw you with Wells. You were too damn young, but you were the prettiest human I had ever laid my eyes on. Then, I got to know you. I loved you more. There is a lot of twisted shit between us, but don’t think that I didn’t love you. Because I did.”
She lifted her arm and swiped away the tears with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Really?” she asked with a raspy voice.
The vulnerability was killing me. That guy who had loved her wanted to go hold her and reassure her that no one had ever compared to her. The part of me she had claimed, no one was able to touch it. Shit that I wasn’t about to say to her because those things couldn’t be said. The water wasn’t under the bridge. It had taken the bridge out. We had Sarah to think about.
“I swear,” I said, making myself not move from this spot. I didn’t trust myself if I did.
She sniffled some more and gave me a small, teary smile. “I’m sorry.” She laughed softly. “I went all female on you. I didn’t mean to get emotional. I think with”—she glanced over at the bed—“all that happened, I am still trying to find where we stand or where I stand with you.”
I stuffed my hands in my pockets, fisting them to keep from reaching out to her. “We are us. We … can’t be more than what we are, but we can be friends. There is no need to keep the hate and enemy thing going. I’m not sure I can go back to that now anyway,” I told her.
I could see the disappointment in her eyes, and I wished I could tell her something different. But this was for the best. For all of us.
Twenty-Seven
Oakley
Hearing him say he loved me was bittersweet. For nine years, I had thought he had lied the day he told me he loved me. Knowing that he hadn’t lied and that he had still loved me—even though he had wanted Sylvia sexually, not me. It just hadn’t been enough.
I would never be enough for Wilder.
Shaking that emotion off and getting ahold of myself were important though. I hadn’t meant to go all crazy, possessive girlfriend just because we’d had sex, but this day had been difficult.
“It’s late,” Wilder said, coming up behind me where I stood at the sink, washing the dishes we had used.