Page 99 of My Favorite Bad Decision
Of course.
I’m already at my building. I get upstairs, take a quick shower, and change into sweats. I consider allowing her to see all the signs of my devastation: the pizza boxes I haven’t recycled, the bottle of whiskey I emptied myself, the clothes I abandoned on the floor because I no longer fucking care about anything. But I’m not going to make her feel guilty. She gets enough of that from everyone else.
I’ve just shoved the last of the clothes in the closet when the doorman calls to ask if she can come up. I tell him it’s fine, and two minutes later she knocks on the door. I spent my entire shower trying to read something into her texts, and as I turn the deadbolt, I’m trying to read into her knock. Was it reluctant? Was it nervous? Is she just here to retrieve something she left behind? Was it the knock of a woman about to deliver the final blow? She basically already did that, so doing it once more seems unnecessary.
I open the door and she stands there in all her glory: beige wrap dress under a matching coat. Bright red heels, bright red lips. All that glorious hair hanging around her shoulders. A small, nervous smile.
The nervous smile makes my heart sink. It’s the smile of a woman delivering bad news.
I step aside, and she walks past me. Two weeks ago, she’d have buried her face in my chest the second she saw me, but not anymore. She walks into the kitchen, then turns, as if bracing herself, I can’t keep waiting for the final blow.
I run a hand through my hair. “Kit, just?—”
“I talked to my dad,” she says at the same time.
“You go first,” we say simultaneously.
Her eyes fill and there’s a buzzing sound in my brain as I wait.
“My dad told me that the reason you left the Hamptons was because of me,” she whispers.
My laugh is equal parts surprise and misery. Is this why she’s here? To dig up shit from a decade ago? “I assumed you knew.”
She shakes her head. “How could I possibly have known?”
It takes all my restraint not to pull her against me. “Howcouldn’tyou have known? I was two seconds from pouncing when I left you in the kitchen that day. It was the most sexually charged moment of my life until oursecondmoment in the kitchen.”
She blinks back tears. “You left because you were protecting me.”
I hitch a shoulder. “What was I supposed to do? You were seventeen. A five-year age difference at that point in our lives…it was way too much. You were still in high school, for God’s sake.”
She brushes at her eyes. “I’m not quibbling with you about it. But I just never realized what a well-established pattern it is.”
“What pattern?”
“You giving things up on my behalf,” she whispers, leaning against the counter behind her. “You having my back when no one else does.”
I can’t stand being apart from her. I can’t. Even if she’s about to dump me again. I close the distance, letting my hand rest on her hip, and pressing my mouth to the top of her head. “I know you can’t hurt Maren. I know you’re still getting over Rob. But no matter how long that goes on and no matter who else comes into your life…I will always have your back.”
“I spread the ashes.”
I step back, stunned. “What?”
“In Central Park. Rob and I had a date there once. And it wasn’t about me still being in love with Rob. It was just about me clinging to a time when I was happy. I don’t need to cling. You make me happy. You make me happier than anyone ever has.”
My hand tightens around her hip. “But Maren?—”
“I told her,” she says. “And it wasn’t perfect, but it was okay.”
I stare. I was so convinced she was coming here to deliver one final death blow…and I’m still waiting for her to deliver it.
“But?” I ask. “I still hear abutcoming.”
She exhales heavily. “But I need to know about the ponytail holder. I mean...I know you were seeing someone in Germany before and that’s fine, but...is it over? I heard it wasn’t over.”
I blink. “What?You mean Tatiana? That ended over the holidays, and it wasn’t a big deal even then.”
“But you flew to Germany, and her hair tie was sitting right there?—”
