Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,82

been wrong with just saying your mother was relocating to Michigan for a job and you’d decided to go with her? I would have understood that. Completely. Agreed with it. Helped you, even. I knew what was going on, what people in town were saying. Of course she would have benefitted from starting over. But you and I still could have made it work, even long distance.”

He directed his stare to the table, all while his jaw worked as if he was chewing on unsaid words.

“You just disappeared, and all I got was that letter from my mother. That’s how much I mattered, apparently. Didn’t you know, if you didn’t want to go through with our plans, you could have just told me? And not planned an escape?”

Anguish, wet and hot, fought for clearance to my throat and eyes. I swallowed it back.

“That’s the thing, one of the things, that hurt the worst.”

“Zora—”

“No, listen. You disappeared and I waited around like a dumbass, thinking you couldn’t have done it without a good reason. Then I drove to Ann Arbor with Leigh—”

His eyebrows shot up.

“Intending to, I don’t know, see if you were okay, for God’s sake. That’s how stupid I was.” Stupid for him, I thought, but didn’t say.

He leaned forward, brows furrowed. “And what happened?”

That’s right. He wouldn’t know.

Even all these years later, talking about it constricted my heart, stopped my pulse. Here I was, thirty years old, near tears remembering the betrayal of a twenty-year-old Nick. How stupid was I? Why was I not using this time and mental space for something that actually mattered?

But at least now, finally, I was able to address it.

Closure, right?

“We went to that stupid hippie coffee shop you worked at, and saw the girl, your coworker. The redhead. Kissing you.” My eyes closed against the memory. “And you kissed her back.”

He sat back against the booth with a thud, his face blank.

All the promises I’d made to myself to be polite, professional, accepting, a lady á la Ellie Leffersbee’s design, flew out the window as I watched the dumbfounded expression on his face. “You were busy kissing your coworker, while I was pining for you, you selfish asshole.”

His expression didn’t change, but both silvered heads of the occupants in the booth behind him swiveled in our direction.

My breathing wasn’t steady. I tried to remind myself of the truth: I was angry at him. Hurt at what he did all those years ago.

But more than that, I was angry at myself. For somehow still loving him.

I hated myself for that.

“What you said yesterday.” My voice came out steady and I was glad of it. “About wanting more from me? It’s completely unfair, and uncalled for. Jackson and I—”

“I didn’t cheat on you.”

His gaze on mine was direct and unflinching. He shook his head, eyes still on mine, and repeated, “I swear, I didn’t cheat on you. It took me a minute to figure out what you must have seen, and I do remember now. That was my coworker, Rebecca, although she wasn’t always a redhead. I think her hair was every color of the rainbow in the year I worked there.” His hand snaked across the table and gripped mine, exerting warm pressure. “But I did not do anything with her. I wish you would have stayed. I wish you would have come inside.”

I yanked my hand away, mouth agape. So, this is how he wanted to do this? He wanted to deny what I’d seen with my own eyes? “Are you serious right now?”

“Zora. Listen to me. If you’d come inside, if you’d even waited just a second longer, you’d know I pushed her away. That situation, what happened, it was my fault. She was flirty, and she’d been flirty for some time. I should have shut down her advances prior to that but I just . . . I didn’t know. So I kept ignoring her, thinking she’d finally get the hint and stop.”

“You had every opportunity to pull away.”

He hesitated. “I agree, and you’re right. But I remember,” he said, his voice straining in earnest, “in that moment, being torn between not wanting to hurt her and disbelief that it was even happening. I should have handled it better, and I should have moved faster. But you’ve gotta believe me, I stopped it, I did. I’m sorry I didn’t do it when you were standing there, but I did.”

I folded my arms. “Is that supposed to make it all better?