Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Tick, tick, tick.
I swayed, a bit unsteady on my feet, and braced one hand on the doorframe.
“Maren? You okay?”
“Yes.” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. Forced my shoulders back. “I’m fine. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
“To apologize. Can I come in?”
“No.” It surprised me how raw my anger felt, given how much time had gone by. Like fresh blood spilling from an old wound.
He nodded slowly, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Fair enough. I know it’s probably a shock to see me.”
“To say the least.”
“I probably should have called you first.”
“You probably should have called me twelve years ago.”
He nodded. “You’re right. I should have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“What can I say? I was a kid. It was a dick move.”
“That’s your apology?” I stared at him for a moment longer, then I shut the door in his face. He blocked it, keeping it from closing all the way.
“Hey, wait.” He pushed it open again, but he didn’t try to come in. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I was seventeen, and I didn’t know how to say goodbye.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Maybe you were too busy fucking me to remember.”
“What can I say? I like sex better than talking. And I’m much better at it.”
“Not. Funny.”
He took me by the upper arms, which were bare in my yoga top. Warmth pooled at my center, and I felt light-headed. His touch had always done that to me. “Maren, I’m sorry. Really and truly sorry for leaving that way. My parents sprung it on me less than twenty-four hours before they put me on a plane. After fighting with them, I went right to you. I have no excuse other than I didn’t want to spend our last night together being sad.”
“That was selfish of you. Maybe you didn’t want to say goodbye, but I would have liked the chance.”
“I should have given it to you. The truth is …” He took his hands off me. Ran one over his stubble, which distracted me, because I’d always loved his hands. “I thought you’d be better off without me.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Is that why you never answered my texts or calls?”
“Yes.” His dark eyes were solemn. “I knew I had let you down, and I was ashamed of myself for it. Can you forgive me?”
I exhaled, biting my lip. Could I? I liked to think of myself as a forgiving person. I certainly didn’t believe in holding grudges, and anyone who knew me would say I was a peacemaker, not a fighter. But I also felt like I’d earned the right to get a few things off my chest.
I forced myself to look him in the eye. “It took me a long time to get over what you did to me, Dallas.”
He nodded, letting me speak.
“My entire senior year, I was lonely and miserable. I kept waiting for you to get in touch and at least tell me you were okay, that we would be okay no matter what, just like you’d promised.” I shook my head, feeling my throat close up. “Was everything you said a lie?”
“No,” he said seriously. “I never lied to you, Maren. I was an immature asshole, and I made stupid decisions, but I never said anything I didn’t mean.”
You said you loved me, I almost shouted. You said you needed me. But I pulled myself together. What good would it do to throw that in his face at this point? Did I really want to hear him say he’d been just a kid who didn’t know what love was? Would that honestly make me feel better after all this time?
“You promised to take me to the senior prom,” I said instead. “You know what I did that night?”
“What?”
“Nothing. I sat home, and not because no one asked. A few guys did.”
His hands flexed at his sides. “Why didn’t you go?”
“Because I knew I’d only spend the evening missing you. It wouldn’t have been fun for my date or me. But you know what?” I stood a little taller. Puffed up my chest. “I should thank you. I never made the mistake of trusting someone too easily again.”
“Well … you’re welcome.” One side of his mouth hooked up in a sexy crooked grin that made me feel seventeen again.
“Stop that. I’m still mad at you.”
“You are?”
“Yes.” I gave him my meanest stare.
His grin widened. “Is that your evil eye? Fuck, that’s cute.”
“My anger is cute?”
“No. Yes. Wait, is that a trick question? You’re cute. Your anger is not. And I hate that I caused it. You were the last person on earth I ever wanted to hurt.”
“You were the last person on earth I ever thought would hurt me.”
He accepted that with a slow nod. “I’ll always be sorry for that. I deeply regret it.”