Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
I couldn’t believe he was giving me advice about my love life. I wanted to tell him that all the dates I’d been on were catastrophic disappointments, that the sex was mediocre, and that he ruined my chance at finding love because he was so good to me, not because of how bad he was to me. The last guy I went out with was still hitting my DMs, asking for the money he said I owed him. When I deleted all my dating accounts, he went after my social media accounts, and he wasn’t letting up. I would just pay him, but I had too much pride for that.
“I didn’t know about Christmas. My parents never told me.”
Of course, they didn’t.
“I…I…I feel so terrible that I can’t convey it in words.” He lifted his eyes and looked at me. “I hurt the person I love most in this world, and I just fucking hate myself for it. Everything these past three months has been a blur, and now that I’m present…I’m sick. I’m sick for hurting Lizzie. I’m sick for hurting you. I’m sick for going back to the women who have never meant anything to me. I’m sick that all that growth, all that happiness, was shattered…because I allowed it to be.” He bowed his head in shame. “I hate myself more than you could possibly understand, Emerson.”
The amount of self-loathing was nothing compared to the pain I’d carried every single day for three months, but I let him absolve himself of guilt so he could carry on and forget about me. That meant we wouldn’t talk anymore, and that was what I wanted more than anything. I wanted to remove Derek Hamilton from my life—permanently.
“But…I have one rebuttal to what you said.” He straightened in his chair as he looked at me with brown eyes that were vulnerable and deep, no longer guarded and angry. “You said that I’m here again, but the next time something happens…I’ll go back. My remorse is conditional. My love is revocable. That’s not true. Not anymore.”
I didn’t believe a word he said, but I didn’t have a reaction to it.
“Emerson, I would never do something like that again. I’m a different person now.”
“Why?” I challenged him, not because I cared about the answer, but just to remind him that his words were empty with no actual evidence to back them up. “I used to have faith in you. But I don’t anymore. You can say whatever you want to make yourself feel better, but we both know you’ll never change.”
He swallowed a catch in his throat, and his eyes flinched slightly. “I have changed.”
“Why?” I pressed.
“Because…” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, as if he were trying to calm himself. “Because I have.”
I shook my head. “I hope you’re right, but it makes no difference to me whether you are or not.” The past was in the past. The damage had been done. I was still livid three months later, when an appropriate amount of time had passed, and I wasn’t anywhere near being over it. My body was covered in scars now. First, there were kisses…and now there were bruises and permanent damage that would never heal.
He turned quiet again, the silence lasting for minutes.
I waited for him to leave, but he continued to sit there.
“Emerson.” He took another breath as he looked at me. “I understand why you feel the way you do. You’re entitled to it after everything I did. My reaction would be no different, based on my own experience. But…you’re the love of my life, the woman I want for the rest of my life, and…I would do anything to get you back.” His eyes moistened slightly as he looked at me, like he really meant every single syllable in those words. “I promise I will never, ever do anything like this—”
I raised my hand to silence him.
His eyes stayed glued to my face, his breathing increasing.
“I thought you just wanted to apologize. I thought you wanted to repair our professional relationship, even our friendship. I had no idea this was your endgame, to attempt to get back the personal relationship you destroyed.” I spoke so quietly and so professionally that it was actually tenser than if I were to scream like I did before. I was so angry that I actually got quiet, because I was floored. “It’s gone, Derek. That beautiful, perfect relationship was destroyed long ago. There’s nothing left to salvage.”
“That’s not true—”
“It is true. Because the reason that relationship was so beautiful was because I trusted you, deeply, madly. I had complete faith in you. When my mother warned me, I said there was nothing to worry about. I put all my chips in the pile and bet on you as my horse. I put in my entire life savings. I put everything on the table, my heart, my family…my daughter. And you dumped me. In a stairwell. And forgot about me.”