Swept Away (Wildfire Lake #3) - Skye Jordan Page 0,70

her as she mutters, “Asshole.”

Ben makes a face and shakes his head at me as if to say, She doesn’t mean it.

“You’ve made your point,” Ben says, voice soothing. “He almost lost his goddaughter, babe. He’s entitled to a little crazy talk. Let him take a breath.”

“I have to pick up the girls from your sister anyway.” She levels that angry gaze on me again. “Leave Chloe the hell alone. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Ben walks KT out the main entrance, and I’m alone again. At this time of night, the hospital lobby is empty and the quiet closes in around me. I drop my head into my hands and exhale all the air from my lungs. “Fuck. Me.”

19

Chloe

It’s another stunning night lakeside. I’m trying to get some words in on my book before my evening yoga class, but I haven’t been able to find one word of inspiration or instruction or even hope for my readers since I walked away from Xavier four days ago. This is the last evening of the conference before life returns to normal—thankfully, I won’t have Bodhi in my face anymore, but unfortunately, I won’t have Xavier either. Only this time, I won’t even have him as a friend.

I look over the screen of my laptop and soak in the pink-and-coral sky, slowly darkening. Another day gone. Another day alone. I haven’t figured out what this experience was supposed to teach me. There are so many possibilities—exposure of my trust issues, the consequences of holding information back, ruling Xavier out as boyfriend material once and for all. Every time I try to figure it out, my mind spins and spins but doesn’t gain traction. I probably can’t see it because I’m not ready to let go of the anger. Anger is judgment. Judgment is ego. But I’m sure as soon as I let go of the resentment, the tears will come, and I’m terrified they’ll never stop.

My phone pings with a message. I don’t look because I’m pretty damn sure it’s from Xavier. He’s been calling and texting and coming by since that night in the hospital, but I’m no more ready to talk to him now than I am ready to let go of my anger and hurt. It’s a simmering cauldron of poison I know I have to dump, but it’s still too hot to touch.

Just thinking about it all tugs at the wounds enough to break the scabs, and I start bleeding again. Not the arterial gush I suffered at the hospital, but still a messy, aching stream.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Bodhi slides into a seat across from me, a bottle of water in hand.

I sigh and look at my computer screen. “The words just aren’t coming tonight.”

“Oh, how well I know that pain.”

It’s almost time for yoga, so I close my laptop. “I read your book. It’s pretty good.”

“Just pretty good?” he asks, smiling.

Yeah, he’s got a great smile. I can see him more objectively now that I have distance from the betrayal. He’s just as imperfect as the rest of us. I put him on too high a pedestal. He had to fall eventually.

My phone lets out a soft reminder ping.

Bodhi glances at my phone, then back to me. “Xavier?”

“Probably.”

“Still not talking?”

I shake my head. “Not ready.”

Bodhi’s gaze lowers to the water bottle he spins in his hand, and his expression shifts toward regret. “If you’d never met me, if I’d never cheated”—his gaze lifts to mine, contemplative—“would you be more willing to give Xavier a chance to bridge this space between you?”

I didn’t tell him what happened, just that we broke up.

His question is a relatively deep one, reminding me of all the intense talks Bodhi and I shared. All the wisdom he imparted.

I sigh and turn the question over in my mind. Try to imagine Bodhi and I didn’t work out for a benign reason that hadn’t broken my trust and betrayed my love.

And when I take the resulting bitterness and distrust out of the equation, I nod. “Probably. Yeah.”

“Then you need to give him that chance. Haven’t I stolen enough of your happiness?”

I exhale, my shoulders sag.

Bodhi reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. “I leave in the morning.”

I nod.

“It’s been so…healing…to see you,” he says. “I will love you until the day I die and be forever grateful you chose to forgive me.”

Tears sting my eyes. I feel like my world is falling down around me. I nod again, and