Page 95 of Winging It with You

“He said yeah but only ifyousplit it with me.”

“Oh, he did, huh?” Elise gives me a squeeze before turning to head back to the house. “How will I ever be able to say no tothatface?”

“Thoughts and prayers, sis.”

She makes her way up the wooden steps, pausing before she gets to the top. “I love you, Theo. And I’m so happy you’re here.”

I smile because I’m happy too.

Happy to be around Elise and her beautiful family. Happy to be with my parents, in a place that is filled with memories around every corner.

Happy I’ve come home.

26

Asher

Mahagiri Resort Nusa Lembongan—still in Room 416

Bali, Indonesia

I couldn’t tell you if it’s been a few hours or a full week since Theo left.

I lie on the pull-out sofa, turning so that my only view is the dark wall. Our king-size bed remains empty. The thought of wrapping myself in the sheets, our sheets, makes me nauseous.

I crush his pillow harder to my chest and inhale the sweet smell of him still lingering on the soft linen. I grabbed it the moment I got back to our room and have held on to it ever since.

Theo.

His expression when Clint dropped to his knee haunts me. It’s ingrained in my brain—I’ve been mentally replaying the pain ripple across his gorgeous face. Cold and alone, I’m desperate to hear him humming in the shower or to feel his hand in mine again.

But he’s gone.

He’s probably put a couple thousand miles between the two of us now. I would have. His phone is definitely off. Or he’s blocked me. Either way, I think I surpassed the record for outgoing calls that went straight to voicemail in an hour window.

I waited for him to come racing back through our hotel room’s door. I even called the front desk to make sure an extra key was left in his name just in case he misplaced his. Every sound I heard coming from the hallway made my heart stop, the anticipation of seeing his face sending spikes of adrenaline through my veins. But the moment never came, and it was easier to just succumb to the painful silence of my remorse.

I should have begged. Gotten down on my knees and groveled. Done something, anything, other than just letting him leave. When I should have been screaming that Clint means nothing to me and it’s Theo I want to be with, I stood still as a statue, frozen in place and completely debilitated by the humiliation of it all.

Theo, the only man who made me feel something other than doubt and insecurity in who knows how long, left thinking that I’d chosen my past—the one he helped me heal from—over him.

I’ve spent the better part of my twenties fine-tuning my response to men. Knowing which battles to fight and when to shrug off one-sided tensions was key to every prior relationship. I focused on my professional growth, had as much sex as I thought a good significant other needed, and enthusiastically threw compliments around like confetti. It took years to perfect and was easier than ever to finesse when Clint came into the picture all those years ago.

But all that went out the window when I met Theo, who offered me a mirror. Someone who raised an eyebrow at mybullshit and reflected back every falsehood I tried to wear as a facade.

He called my bluff on that very first day in the airport and has held all the cards since.

I groan. What have I done?

There’s a knock on the door. Three solid thumps against the barrier between me and the outside world. I ignore it.

Again, harder this time.

“Please, just go away,” I mutter into the pillow.

The peep of the key fob snaps my eyes open. Someone used a key to open the door.

I sit up on the makeshift bed, my heart now firmly lodged in my throat. All the blood rushes to my head, causing my vision to blur. Have I eaten anything? I can’t remember.

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