You Know I Need You (You Are Mine #4) - Willow Winters Page 0,27

are bloodshot, and she can barely walk straight. She tries to lean against me but I take a step back, and when I do she sees my gun.

Her eyes widen, and she stumbles backward with a gasp. The two girls exchange a look while holding their breath, both on edge and realizing they shouldn’t have walked back here.

“I was just on my way out,” I reassure them. I tuck the gun back into the waistband of my jeans.

“I want to ask one question before you leave, Thompson,” James says to my back as I turn away. “Wives aren’t off-limits anymore, are they?” My blood rushes into my ears and I almost do it. I almost kill that fucker, consequences be damned.

“Ah, I see not all the rumors are true. Are they, Evan?”

“Leave her the fuck alone, James.” My blood pumps hot as I stare into his beady eyes, but all he does is smile.

Chapter 13

Kat

It’s been three days now.

Evan hasn’t come back or even texted. Just the thought makes my throat tight. My eyes are filled with sadness that I can’t shake. A piece of me feels like it’s mourning, but not ready to let go of hope.

I’ve texted and called, remembering how he said he loved me and this was only going to last for a short while. It was pathetic of me.

I’m lonely, emotional, pregnant. I was desperate to believe he still loved me.

The text was simple. It’s really hard without you. I’m sorry; I was wrong to give you an ultimatum. Please forgive me. I miss you and I really need you. That’s what being lonely does to me. It makes me weak and wish he’d just come back to me.

Brushing under my puffy eyes, I stare down at my phone. It’s my raw heart and the very last pieces of the shattered thing that bring me down this low. I never heard anything back.

I thought it would get easier, but somehow Evan refusing to talk to me is making it harder. He doesn’t return my calls, doesn’t text back. Nothing. The only contact I have with him is an excerpt from the Page Six column quoting him as saying that we’ve split.

I remember how he said it was just for a “short while.” Maybe that’s how he got me. He left me with hope.

That fucking bastard.

It’s like my body doesn’t want to hate him and instead, the blame is falling on me.

It’s my fault I pushed him away.

My fault I gave him an ultimatum.

Why am I the one hoping he’ll forgive me?

Why am I the one praying he’ll write me back, leaving voicemails saying he’s sorry?

At least at night. And only late at night.

The days are so much easier. Although I know I’m to blame too. I know I contributed. If only I could take it back, I would.

After the unanswered texts, I started packing everything of his to place into storage. Starting with his clothes from a basket of clean laundry. Removing those clothes from my sight didn’t make any bit of difference with the sadness. The harsh tears and sobs came when I started ripping the photos off the wall and throwing them into a box.

It was my breaking point, the moment I knew I’d lost it and couldn’t stay here, surrounded by pieces of him.

So I moved out and into Jules’s guest room.

I don’t know if I’m insane, hormonal, or how the hell I’m supposed to react to all this. The only thing I really know is that I’m not the first woman to have a man leave her. I won’t be the last, either. It is what it is, and every second that goes by with Evan not saying a word is one more layer added to my armor.

“What about her?” Jules questions and I lift my gaze to her, trying not to show how messed up I am. It’s not her fault.

She’s cuddled up on the couch, a soft cream and brown striped throw over her legs with the computer in her lap. She turns it toward me so I can check out the profile and résumé she’s looking at.

Personal Assistant – Angela Kent

She has experience and an impressive résumé. My gaze scans down the lines on the screen, but it’s hard for me to focus. Interviews are a must at this point; I have to hire someone to help me. Or take on less work from the agency. Both are viable options. I only need to pick one. Hopefully sooner,