Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Drew called me last night and apologized for the things he said about you and how he spoke to me,” I say, swallowing an all-out sob. “And you come in here and tell me we’re not going to work. Yes, we hadn’t put a label on what we have together, and I’m not suggesting that we’re a couple. It’s too soon for that. But I had thought you wanted to maybe … try. With me. I also thought you were one of the few good men left with values and a heart that loves. But you proved me wrong.”
I throw my hands up in frustration.
I thought I’d go to Boston feeling stronger about myself. And I can still do that because Brooks woke up a sexual and emotional side of myself, I’d always shied away from to be “good.”
But this? I wasn’t ready for this. He’s not even willing to give us a go. A try. I need to accept that, even if it hurts. Even if I thought our fling might possibly lead to more.
Tears fall freely down my cheeks, landing on my chest and sliding down my cleavage where his hands were supposed to be. Splinters dig into the cavity where my heart used to live before it was smashed by the one man who I thought was going to be different.
But this isn’t my fault. I didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not because I’m too “sweet.” It’s about him. So, this is where I bring out the new Audrey who can stand up for herself. Who can use her voice. Who is not just sweet and amenable.
“You’ll regret this,” I say, my voice clogged with unshed tears. “And, when you do, remember that someone hurt you. But that someone wasn’t me.”
“Damn it.” He struggles to stay calm, like hearing this wasn’t what he expected. “You have to believe me that I don’t want this. You are the woman by whom everyone else is measured. The bar. You’re the fucking bar, Doc.” He narrows his eyes as if it’s going to help deliver his words to my heart.
“Look into my eyes.” I stand still, holding my place until his eyes meet mine. “You’re going to leave in a moment, and I want you to remember what you see.” My bottom lip quivers, but I will not let myself sob. “What you see isn’t regret. It’s disappointment.”
He reaches for me, his eyes filled with tears.
“Go.” I step away from him far enough that he can’t grab me. “Leave.”
“Can I …” He sighs. “No. No, I can’t. I did this. But I don’t deserve you to hate me. I don’t want you to hate me.”
I laugh sadly. “Yeah, well, you hesitated. Now you’re getting hit in the face.”
I turn away from him, so he doesn’t see me break down, and run to my bedroom down the hall.
He doesn’t follow.
He probably doesn’t even look back.
I don’t know why I ever expected anything different.
Whimsy List: Updated
Have a one-night stand.
ORGASM! (with a man)
Wear a bold lipstick.
Buy more lingerie (and wear it often).
Stop being sweet.
Learn to flirt.
Take a self-defense class.
Get a tattoo.
Sleep in the dark without being scared.
Cut my hair.
Learn to be okay if others are disappointed (even if it’s in me).
Eat alone in public.
Do something spontaneous.
Make Anna proud.
Learn how to give a blow job.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Audrey
At least the tears have stopped.
I pull into Gianna’s driveway because I don’t know where else to go. My house would be as lonely as the cabin, and Astrid lives with Gray, so I can’t go there. I’m not going to be emotional about a guy at his best friend’s house.
I’d rather not be emotional about him at all, but it’s too late, too fake, and too fucked for that.
Driving back to Nashville was tricky, as it reminded me of the road trip Brooks and I took. At least this time, I didn’t have butterscotch wrappers strewn throughout the car. And I told myself that all that cereal he eats like popcorn was terrible for his teeth, and his music was awful. But then I found myself pulled over on the side of the road listening to his walkout song of choice and having a tiny meltdown.
My brain keeps telling me that I’m going to be fine. It is the abruptness of it all that bothers me. I didn’t see it coming, and in my quest to please people, I need to understand what I did to make him turn away from me so quickly. But I might never understand his reasons, and I need to be okay with that, too.
I just hope I stop associating things with him. It’s the random pow! of a memory that’s blindsiding.
Gianna painted the front door since the last time I was here. Her urinal sculpture, or whatever she created that I don’t question because I don’t want to hurt her feelings, now sits in a flower bed front and center. I bet Drake loves that.