Page 157 of No Rings Attached
I needed to make the right choice, and being so close to Drew at this moment was muddying my thoughts.
Because I knew—deep in my soul—that if I said yes now, I could get stuck in an endless loop. Once I accepted less, it would become harder to leave later. That resentment would build, the loneliness would compound and we’d both end up miserable.
Or we might be able to figure it out and be happy together.Bad Eleanor sounded oddly hopeful and strangely optimistic. I wasn’t sure what to make of this new side of her.
Or was it better to cut ties now? Better to walk away while I still had the strength?
Even if it felt like dying.
The tears came harder now, ugly sobs that made it difficult to see the sidewalk in front of me. I didn’t stop though. I just kept going.
I wanted to choose myself.
But that decision didn’t feel victorious.
It felt like the loneliest triumph in the world.
And if that was the case, was I making a bigger mistake not accepting Drew’s offer? Of not giving our love a chance, or allowing us the chance to work through our first hurdle as a couple?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
DREW
My mother and Glamma found me sulking alone in the parlor. I couldn’t keep what happened from them.
“Andrew Elliott Kingsley, I didnotraise a fool.” Mom’s voice cut through the fog in my head like a knife. Beside her, Glamma crossed her glittering arms like a jeweled executioner preparing for sentencing.
“No, you did not,” Glamma added, cool as the lake water in November. “So he better stop acting like one.”
I turned to face them. Two generations of fierce Kingsley women stared me down, thoroughly unimpressed with the man standing before them. My mouth moved before my brain caught up. “How do I make her understand? I love her. I?—”
Mom’s look was pure disappointment, the kind that hit harder than anger ever could. “Think, Drew. Ellie has spent her entire life being second. Tonight you told her she’d be second again. To acalendar.To a project. To everything but you.”
Something hot and sharp stabbed beneath my ribs, stealing my breath.
Oh, shit. What was I thinking?
The fog cleared an instant later, brutal clarity flooding in. I’d just told the woman I loved that she wasn’t first in my life.
“What have I done?”
Twelve years fell on me all at once: the sharp glint of a marquise diamond and ruby on my sketchpad, the rush of pride when I pitched the Ruby Night logo. I insisted on designing it myself, certain I could make my mark as an artist. The pins sold as a gag, the necklaces tanked, and the company lost money. I carried the shame like a brand.
From that night forward, I swore I’d never make a mistake like that again. So I worked. And worked. Until penance and discipline blurred together and became the same thing.
Not again.
I wouldn’t make a decision that would haunt me the rest of my life once again.
“She asked for time to think.” I looked at Mom and Glamma.
“Don’t give it to her,” Glamma pointed at the door. “Don’t give her a second to decide to not stay.”
She was right. So damn right.
So I ran.
Back out the front door and towards Main Street.
