Page 92 of The Dom with the Clever Tongue

“The letter.” He tapped his fingertips together. “Yeah, I know.”

“I wanted to make you want me again.” She flipped her hand aimlessly. “Instead of them. Reece and Scarlet.”

“You know their names?” He leaned down to look at her face. “Look at me, Ivy.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” She straightened and went on shakily. “I found out all about them from some friends.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “They have each other, and I had no one. I know it was stupid and selfish, but I did it on a whim, and then it was too late to take it back. I put the letter under your door. And I’m sorry. Icouldn’t go inside here. Not like this. Not with a lie between us.” She paused a moment.

When he didn’t reply immediately, she ran on. “It was none of my business. I shouldn’t have meddled. I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me. I’ll go.” She went to stand and put a hand to a suitcase, but he pulled her back down.

“Stay. Let me at least sort this out in my head.” They sat a while, watching stray chickens peck at the ground by their feet. Did any other farmers have Houdini chickens? He thought of the girls and the letter that Ivy had written – not Scarlet’s mother after all. But did Ivy writing it really make a difference? Probably not. It was all still true.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” She smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

Sitting here with her like this had clarified things. Here she was poised at the front door of his life, ready to move back in like nothing had happened between them. Really, since they’d split, nothinghadhappened between them. They were still where they’d been at when they’d split up, except they possibly had even less in common. Was she even the same person? Was he?

He had to admit it. He didn’t really love her. Not anymore. He felt empty when he thought of her – he’d cherished memories of her for so long, it was hard to identify where his real memories of their relationship had gotten mixed in with nostalgia. Now, when she was in front of him, he knew that he’d been lying to himself about how good things had been between them. But how was he going to tell her that?

He frowned, looking out across his acreage, feeling that expansive pride a man does at owning something so big you had to walk for ages to get around it. The wind in the nearby trees and the comparative quiet of the countryside filled him with a peace he’d never realized he’d been missing in the old days. Ivy had never filled him with peace – only with a desperate need to own her, keep her. She was a high-maintenance woman. In contrast, Reece and Scarlet made him feel quiet inside – alert and wholly alive, but content in the knowledge that he was good enough just being himself.

He and Ivy were in the same boat. In love with the idea of each other, rather than with the reality.

“Ivy, this has very little to do with this letter. If anything, what you said in itwas truthful and it helped me see that what I was doing was wrong and selfish.”

“Mm-hm.” She frowned a little. “But what I did was wrong, too.”

“Yes, it was wrong. But –” He patted her arm. “You confessed and told me. I’m willing to let it go. But also I have to tell you something else you might like less.”

Ivy blinked at him. “I think I know. You don’t really want me back, do you?” She wiped her eyes with her hand. “You don’t love me anymore.” This time she had the courage to look in his eyes.

“No. I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Really it is.” She looked out over his land then too. “I think I had delusions that we’d just fall back into our old ways. But I didn’t love you back then and it was so stupid of me to think I would suddenly love you this time. Or that you would still love me a year later. Sitting here, waiting with my suitcase, like some sort of charity case... It gave me time to understand myself. I realized I piled all my hopes on you and on us because I’m tired of being domless.” She shook her head and sent him a sad sideways look. “It was stupid. You’re like my backup Dom.”

He snorted.

“This was pathetic of me. I can’t believe I wrote that letter. I’m not the kind of girl that does stuff like that.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

“I hope you find the right man, Ivy. I’m sure you will. Keep looking.” He shrugged, struck by a mess of chaotic feelings. “It’s almost a relief having things resolved with you.”

“Yeah. Me too. You’re a sweet guy. I hope you find happiness somewhere.”

They simply shared the step for a while longer and quiet settled over them. The late afternoon sun lost its glare and sank toward the horizon, tinting the sky with vivid orange. The air cooled, and the long grass swayed in the breeze. A few mosquitoes buzzed around them.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Wish I had someone to show this to every day. Maybe I’ll have a whole truckload of kids running around here...one day.”

Ivy sighed. “You know what? I take back everything I said in that letter. You go talk to those girls. They’d be dumb not to grab you, Malachi Johansson.”

She stood, picked up a suitcase and headed for her car.

Mouth open, he watched her walk away for a few moments before he grabbed the second suitcase and followed.

As she drove off down the dirt road, dust pluming behind her tires, he muttered, scowling. Fuck. He’d had it all worked out – he was trying to be a good guy and leave them alone to have a happy life – and now she’d pried the nail out of the coffin again.

He sat there and thought until long after dark, trying to figure himself out.

There was a bit of guilt about how he wasn’t at all upset about breaking things off permanently with Ivy. He’d never thought of himself as the type of guy that could walk away from a girl without regrets, but things with Ivy were definitely over now. She’d said, she’d never even loved him when they were together. That should have hurt, but it just made it easier to walk away.

---