Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol #1) - Fiona Cole Page 0,116
didn’t say it, she could make it not true.
“This didn’t go how I planned, Verana. I do see you. I…care about you. I didn’t plan on it, but you made me lo—”
“Don’t.” Her eyes slid shut, and she shook her head. “No more lies. I can’t handle any more.” With a swallow, she opened her eyes and leveled me with a blank stare. “What’s done is done. The damage is done, and I’m too tired of fighting it. You won, and I lost. At least have the decency to let me go. I don’t want to stand by your side for five more years only to watch you take apart my company. I can’t.”
My jaw clenched tight, holding me back from telling her I’d do the right thing. I wanted to grab her shoulders and make her listen, but she wouldn’t hear me. My body fought against letting her go when I knew it had to be done.
She heaved a sigh, her shoulders falling forward like she couldn’t fight another moment. “I’m going to bed in the guest room. It’s too late to bother going back to Raelynn’s. Tomorrow morning, I’ll grab a few things and leave. Please, let me go.”
Again, I stood like a statue, stoically silent, unable to say yes. We stared each other down in the dark apartment, the lights from the kitchen, casting her sharp cheeks with a luminous glow. But it also highlighted the dark shadows under her eyes, her downturned mouth I wanted to kiss into a smile. I missed her dimples, and I knew if I kept her here, I’d never see them again.
Day in and day out, I’d be faced with her disappointment and hurt. There’d be no honeymoon I could seduce her on. Verana wasn’t a woman who was fooled easily and definitely never more than once.
So, I remained silent, forcing myself to let the regret, and my own hurt bleed through. I couldn’t say the words, but I could let her in. I owed her so much more, but it was all I could make myself give now. Unfortunately, it only made her hurt show more, and tears welled.
But she blinked them back. “Goodnight, Nico,” she whispered, walking past me.
I let her go, just like I knew I would in the morning.
The click of her door mimicked the click in my mind, unleashing the torrent of words I wanted to say. She’d come at me swinging like I deserved, and it was like my body went into fight mode, locking down any weaknesses. Now that she was gone, they flooded out.
I’m not dismantling the company.
I made it for five years because I wanted you—for you.
I see you.
I care for you.
Please, don’t leave.
You’re more important than any revenge.
I love you.
My muscles twitched, wanting to go to her and say them.
But the reality was that she was right. What was done was done. And If I cared for her, I’d give her the true freedom she deserved.
But first, I had phone calls to make.
I had to dig into the back of my liquor cabinet, but I found the unopened bottle I was looking for, knowing it was going to be a long night.
My actions got me here, and my lips remained clamped around all the words I wanted to say, but I could show her.
Sitting down at the table, I skipped the glass and got to work.
Thirty-Eight
Vera
Lorenzo was running your legacy into the ground.
I do see you.
I…care about you.
The words had struggled to escape, and I’d wondered if he’d ever said it to anyone before. But then I realized it hadn’t mattered because it was most likely another ploy to get me to stay. He most likely just needed something from me. Why else would anyone want me around unless I proved useful to their needs? As long as I stayed quiet and played by their rules.
Our argument wreaked chaos through the night, generating one thought after the other until my head throbbed under the weight of it all. As soon as I’d closed the door to the guest room, the first sob broke free, and I’d rushed to the shower, turning the water scalding hot to wash it all away. The anger, the hurt, the want, the need…the love. I wanted it all gone because it grew too big to bear. I’d stepped from the shower and swiped the steam from the mirror, looking at the shell of a woman looking back—not recognizing her.