his arms. There’s something new tattooed on one of them. But from this distance, I can’t make it out.
“I have to use the bathroom,” I mutter absently to Dina, but I don’t check to see if she heard me.
I stride through the haphazardly arranged dining room.
I say an absent “excuse me” to the people I bump into.
But, I don’t stop.
My heart may be racing but my mind’s mad dash to try and understand is outpacing it.
I have a million questions.
A million emotions.
A million fears.
A million hopes.
A million regrets.
I’m trembling by the time I reach him and put a hand out to touch him.
My palm has barely skimmed the rise of his shoulder when he turns sharply.
Just like that, we’re face to face.
Our gazes slam into each other and a lump the size of my heart rises in my throat.
The huge smile that he’d been wearing disappears.
He looks as stunned as I feel.
But then, he looks angry and he crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“What are you doing here?” The accusation in his tone is even more disconcerting than his expression. I feel like a rabbit caught in the site of a hunter’s rifle.
“I think that’s what I should be asking you. I live here.” I say in as hostile a tone as he used.
His mouth tightens and the muscle in his cheek jumps. He looks down at my left hand and I’m so glad I left my ring at home.
“Here with your man?” he says in a biting voice that lands like the sting of a whip.
“How did you—”
“I saw it online somewhere. You move fast.” He says in a voice so cold, it gives me gooseflesh.
He’s looking down at me like I owe him an explanation. Anger and resentment coil around my middle and nearly steal my breath.
How dare he?
When I think of the choices I made in a desperate attempt to hold on to the idea of him, and terrible consequences I’m facing because of those choices, I want to slap him.
I take a step back
Thank goodness for the months I’ve spent faking my equilibrium. Like I do whenever I feel like I can’t maintain the façade one minute longer, I bring Cameron to the front of my mind and push everything else away.
I will not fuck this up by doing anything rash.
I straighten my shoulders and smile, but I don’t even try to hide the disdain in my eyes.
“Are you here with the girl whose ass you ate for breakfast?”
A flush rises up his cheeks and his mouth opens and then closes in a firm angry line. His obvious mortification is nearly as satisfying as getting to slap him would have been.
“I won’t lie and say it’s nice to see you. But, I do hope you enjoy your stay in Winsome.”
I turn on my heel and walk away.
I manage to keep my tears at bay until I’m safely ensconced in the surprisingly clean bathroom in the back of the bar.
But once I’m there, I let them flow.
I don’t even know why I’m crying. In the grand scheme of my life, it’s not a big deal. I know that.
So, why does it hurts so much to see him and not be able to hug him?
Why is it feel so wrong to have anything other than warmth between us?
It must be muscle memory. But, just like my fear, my affection isn’t real.
Yes, we had a nice time. But, whatever we might have been, I’ll just have to wonder.
I’m done crying over men who will never cry over me.
When I’ve washed my face and reapplied my make up, I make my way back to our table, rehearsing my explanation to Dina.
The excuse I concocted disappears like a candle being snuffed out when our table comes into sight.
Carter of all people is sitting with her. Before I can turn around and beat a path away from them, they look up from their intense conversation and straight at me.
His expression is unreadable and I have no idea what I must look like as I wait for one of them to speak. Inside, I’m a mad woman running with my arms flailing around my head.
Dina reacts first.
“What happened to you? You dropped your drink and by the time I looked up you were gone.” Dina stands and walks over to me and lays her most disgruntled frown on me.
I grab her arm and smile with as much nonchalance as I can while I turn us so Carter can’t see my lips