Page 68 of The Nice Guy
“If you want to move to the country, I’ll buy land and build us a house. Whatever you want, I’ll do it. I’ll let you plan our entirevacation, and I won’t do anything but pay for everything. I won’t play golf if you don’t want me to. Please, babe, just come home.”
“I am home, Kevin. My home isn’t with you anymore. I hope you find someone better suited for you if Pippa isn’t the one. I deserve more than what you can give me, and I can’t give you what you want.”
He scoffs. “I can give you everything you ever dreamed of.”
“Except what I dream of can’t be bought. Money won’t solve the issue, and I can’t be bought off. It doesn’t work that way for me. Goodbye, Kevin. Oh, and cancel the countdown to the wedding. There will be no wedding. Not with me.”
Hanging up, I block his number. The last thing I want is to see his name on the screen again. Especially around Rhett. Assuming Rhett ever comes around again.
Last night really felt like a breakup. I never thought he’d be someone who would hurt me, but I’ve been wrong before. Somehow, the nice guy I fell in love with turned into a jerk pretty much overnight. It’s like he wanted to ruin this, and I don’t know why. I just wish I knew what I did to bring out this mean side of him.
My stomach lurches, and I move to the sink to puke again. “What did I eat yesterday that doesn’t agree with me?” I moan and rest my cheek on the cool counter.
I know it’s nothing I ate. It’s the loss of the man of my dreams that’s doing this to me.
The doorbell rings, and I groan. I’m oddly comfortable bent over the counter and resting my body and face on the cold stone surface. I look a mess, but maybe it’ll make whoever’s outside leave quickly.
“Who is it?” I call out.
“Rhett.”
Great. Just what I need. I peel myself off the counter and walk over to the door. Unlocking it, I open it and lean against it. “What are you doing here?”
Rhett’s face shifts to concern, and I get a glimpse of the nice boyfriend I used to have. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t feel well. I’m not sure if it’s something I ate or all the sleep I didn’t get last night.”
Stepping inside without being invited, he walks into the kitchen and pulls out a bottle of water from the fridge. “Here. You look really pale.”
“Yeah, I look as good as I feel, I think,” I say and take a drink. “What are you doing here?”
“We have plans with Carter and Darla at the bar tonight. Dinner, remember?”
The mere thought of food makes bile rise in my throat, and I have to swallow it back. “I don’t think I should go.”
“Are you runnin’ a fever?”
The water helps a bit, but not much. “I don’t know. But it’s not just how I feel. I’m not sure we should be going anywhere together right now. After last night, I don’t think we can pull off being a couple since it doesn’t really feel like we are anymore.”
He pales and runs a hand through his hair. “I hate how last night went. I’m so sorry. I’m in my head, and it’s not a great place to be right now. Not bein’ a couple is the last thing I want.”
Sighing, I lean against the wall. “I’ll get ready and meet you in town.”
“I don’t know that you should be drivin’. I can wait for you.”
“I can drive myself,” I say, drinking more water as though it proves I’m capable of handling heavy machinery. “I must’ve just been dehydrated.”
Licking his lips, he looks at the ground. “I’d like us to be together. I know we hit a rough patch, and we need to talk, but can we try to pretend we’re the people we were three days ago?”
Like I’m the one who flipped personalities? I can’t deny the thought of having my Rhett back, the one who opens doors and acts lovingly—even if he doesn’t love me—makes me a little giddy. “What time are we meeting them?”
“An hour.”
“I’ll shower and be out in thirty minutes,” I say, walking towards the bathroom.
I can’t decide if I want him to come and join me to finish what we started last night or not. When he doesn’t even attempt, I have a sinking feeling. He might have said he wants to work on things, but I think we both know we can’t. An overwhelming feeling that things are ending between us takes over, and I let the tears out in the shower, careful not to get my hair wet again.
If Rhett can hear me crying in the shower, he doesn’t come to check on me. No, I think we’ve officially hit the end of the road we’re traveling on, and he doesn’t care. Not enough, and I really think my nice guy is gone.
