Hard Checked (Ice Kings #4) - Stacey Lynn Page 0,89
see if she still wears the gardenia-scented perfume that used to make me sneeze.
It’s not the prevalent emotion, though, and surprise has me staying in my seat.
She’s beautiful. Elegant. And that’s it.
All I see is how much different she is from Gigi who dyed her hair to match our team colors for crying out loud. These two women can’t be more different.
When I’m with Gigi, I laugh harder and more often than I can ever remember. There’s a comfort in her presence. A simpleness.
It’s me. She’s meant for me.
“What are you doing here?” I drum my fingertips on the table. Now she’s finally willing to see me and talk? It’s about three months too late.
“I’m sorry.” She blurts it out so quickly it takes me a moment to process. “I’m sorry, Sebastian. For everything.”
She’s… sorry?
Anger floods my veins, mixed with an acute pain so tight my stomach hurts from it. “You’re sorry? For what? Being here? Leaving me? Ignoring me? Divorcing me? Not trying to be a jerk here, Madison, but you came all this way and I’m confused. Really fucking confused.”
She flinches and then places her hands on the table. Fingertips spread out showing a recently done French manicure, her favorite. And that ring. It catches the light from the chandelier above us and glistens.
A snarl curls my lips and I refocus on Madison. The pain in her face. The worry.
I love her. I do. I still love this woman, but not in that way. I hadn’t realized how much it had diminished in recent weeks, but it has. I’m still not feeling any reason to make this easier for her. She left me.
She licks her lips and nods. “I know. I understand you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad.” Not anymore. Pretty sure I moved passed that phase back in February when I flew to see her and she said it was over.
“Okay. I’m seeing a therapist. And well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. A lot of work on myself over the last few months and I really, well I really wanted to come see you, and explain things now that I have more clarity, I guess.”
“You’re seeing a therapist? That’s good.” The pain in my stomach loosens and my shoulders fall. I wanted this for her.
“My dad said, after your visit, that I went to see a therapist or I went home to you. Those were my choices.”
Ouch. I mean, way to go, Ben, but fucking ouch. “You chose the therapist.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, Sebastian, I really am. I’m so sorry. I was hurting so much and in so much pain and then I was so confused and lost and it just felt like… it felt like the walls were closing in on me and I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t think. I don’t… I don’t… I don’t know how to describe it better than that, but I just…”
She trails off and blinks, staring at the wall next to us. I can’t pull my gaze off her. Pain laces her eyes and her posture and there’s that part of me that’s always loved her that wants to comfort her but I can’t.
She tugs on her diamond earring, one I gave her. Our fifth anniversary. Seeing them makes me cringe. She’s decked out in my jewelry for a reason and that reason seems to settle when she says, “My therapist has helped me to start getting better, to find acceptance with everything. I guess… I want you to know that. That I think, I could now be at the place where I’m ready to accept everything won’t go the way I wanted.”
“Madison.” It comes out as a sigh. Guilt curdles my stomach like sour milk. Softening my voice, I remind her, “You divorced me. We’re not married anymore.” She opens her mouth, but I talk over her. This is the woman I loved for years. For half my life, and yet… now that love is different. Muted. It’s changed and diminished and I don’t think it even entirely has to do with Gigi or our baby. “I would have done that. I would have waited for you and gotten you the help you needed. It kills me, it’s killing me to see you now, looking sad, but you shut me out and when I fought for us, you pushed me away. I don’t… I can forgive that, because I understand, I think I always did. But I can’t go back to that.”