Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,27
his past actions. But now, more than anything, I wanted to stop whatever he was about say. What if it was somehow worse than what he’d already done? Why was the burden on me to relive the pain from all those years ago, just because he’d reappeared on my doorstep?
He unfolded his arms with a sigh and straightened.
I was suddenly reminded of how very small the room was, and how very large he was. Only three of his giant steps and he was directly in front of me.
I held my ground. Looking into those green eyes, I wondered why I’d doubted it was him at first sight.
“I left because I’d wanted what was best for you. And at the time, I wasn’t that. I wasn’t what you needed. I would’ve only held you back. When I realized that . . . I did what I thought was best.”
Outside, a knot of women loudly discussed lunch options.
“Could you close the door? Please?”
He nodded and turned to close the door. I took the opportunity when those unnerving eyes weren’t prying into mine to settle myself. I’d always hated showing my emotions, specifically the untidy ones. The ugly ones. The cruel irony was this man standing in front of me had once been the only human with whom I’d been comfortable being a mess.
Now I needed to make sure I kept my composure in place and withstood anything he had to say. Because he was also the one person who hurt me the worst.
“Go ahead,” I said, hating the cautious, watchful look on his face, hating the hint of smoke I heard in my own voice. But if we were going to do this, then so be it.
I took a step forward and his brows went up. I aimed my next words up, directly into his face. “So, why now? What’s the purpose of you coming back, kicking up dirt from the past? You moved on a long time ago. Not long after you left, as a matter of fact.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I—”
“You what?” I hissed. A voice at the back of my brain spoke up, timidly suggesting maybe I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to have this conversation right here and now. That the likelihood of my saying something I’d regret was increasing exponentially.
Oh well. Bite me. I was done being well-behaved.
Nick stepped back and I advanced into his space, fueled by the fury warming my bloodstream. “What’s my part in all this, Nick? Is this the part where I’m supposed to tell you I accept your apology? That’s it’s all good, it’s okay? That we likely wouldn’t have stayed together anyway because we were just two dumb kids who didn’t know any better?”
His mouth opened, closed.
“And then what’s your line, after I say my part? You pat yourself on the back, console yourself, walk away feeling like you’re still a good person? Is that what you need? You want my permission to feel better about yourself?”
Nick went still, his face stiffening. His gaze didn’t leave mine, but I saw the change in his eyes. Saw something lurking there.
There was no way I could stem the tide of emotions barreling out of me. I was as helpless as he was against the force of my own anger, disappointment, rage, and bitterness. “You’ve apologized. Be happy with that. I don’t intend to pat you on the head and tell you I forgive you so you can go on and live your life guilt-free.”
“I don’t want you to—”
“Don’t you?” That wasn’t my inside voice. But it felt good, damn it. “Isn’t that what you want? What everyone expects of me? To just bury it so we can get to the business at hand and make you feel comfortable? Well, I’m not. Not this time. You know why? Because my whole fucking life is about doing the right thing. So other people can be happy and okay. And it’s not working out too well for me. For once, just once, I’m not doing it. I’m doing what I really want to do. I’m being true to me. Go find a monk, a priest, whoever fits your belief system. Get forgiveness there. You’re not going to make a fool of me, exploit me, and make a profit all at the same time.”
His head bowed, hands curling at his sides. “I’m not asking you to do anything, Zora. I just want you to hear this apology. I didn’t see another way, couldn’t think of