The Other Side of Us - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,101

not be him right now because he was too messed up, too angry, too scared to be any good to anyone.

Finally, he told her that he did not expect her to wait for him, because he knew that he had hurt her by leaving the way he had and that he understood that a man only had one chance in life to get it right with a woman like her.

“Oliver...you foolish, beautiful man,” she whispered when she’d finished.

Then she wiped the tears from her face and went to pack.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

IN OLIVER’S DREAM, he and Mackenzie were walking along the beach, joined together by Mackenzie’s crazy scarf.

It was cold but they were warm and she was laughing. Then his dream self reached for the scarf and started tearing at it. Mackenzie watched him, her eyes huge pools of sadness, but she didn’t say anything. When he’d finished, the scarf was severed and she drifted away from him, her eyes accusing now. Asking him why he’d destroyed something that was good, something that made them both happy.

He woke in a sweat, blinking rapidly to try to dispel the image of her standing alone on the beach.

He made his way to the bathroom and used a towel to dry himself off. Then he went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Strudel padded into the room, her look questioning.

“Just a bad dream, sweetheart. You go back to bed,” he told her.

She stared at him fixedly for a moment, then crossed to the sink and settled at his feet with a heavy sigh. She’d been out of sorts, too, since they’d come home four days ago. Mooching around, off her food.

Did dogs miss each other the way people did? Did Strudel dream about Mr. Smith?

For her sake, he hoped not, because he missed Mackenzie so much his bones ached with it. It shouldn’t have been possible that someone he’d known for so short a time could have such a huge impact on his life. The fact remained, however, that he thought about her, he dreamed about her, he missed her, he craved her....

He’d had her, too, for the briefest of times, before he’d screwed it up.

He couldn’t think about that night without feeling anxious and panicky and ashamed all over again. He never wanted to be in that place again, so desperate and angry and out of control. He definitely didn’t want to inflict that kind of crazy on Mackenzie. Didn’t want her to see him flailing around in his own bullshit. Didn’t want her to know how nuts and scary it was inside his head sometimes.

He wanted only good for her, and he was not good. He was messed up and scared. He’d told her so, too, in the hardest, most revealing letter of his life. He figured it would be more than enough to convince her that she’d had a lucky escape.

And if it wasn’t, if she was feeling even close to as shitty and sad and lonely as he was...well, then he was an asshole of the highest order. He’d had no business getting involved with her when he was so screwed up. He should have resisted the pull of attraction and turned his back on the sense of connection he’d felt with her. He should have barricaded himself inside his aunt’s place and worked through his crap on his own instead of inflicting it on her.

He tried to reimagine the past several weeks if he’d done just that. If he’d kept his distance. If he hadn’t kissed her after she listened to him spout off about Edie. If he had turned her away when she showed up at his door, determined to seduce him within an inch of his life. If they hadn’t shared all those dinners and open fires and nights in her bed.

He couldn’t. It was impossible to imagine himself not responding to her. Not being attracted to her. Not wanting her.

So maybe all roads led to him standing at his kitchen sink in the middle of the night, sweaty and anxious and full of regret. Maybe he’d always been destined to break her heart—and his own—because he’d met her at the wrong time, because he couldn’t handle the way she made him feel and the corresponding fear that came with all the good stuff. Fear that she would betray and hurt him the way Edie had. Fear that he would never be able to trust her or anyone. Fear that his divorce had broken