Page 16 of Before We Break Again
“You’re probably right, but I can’t take any chances,” Dustin says, his tone deadly serious.“I’m being proactive this time.Conflict of interest or not, you’re probably his only chance to recover.”
The silence in the car is crushing.I can’t find the words.My mind is racing, spinning, trying to make sense of everything.But nothing makes sense anymore.
“Why me?”I finally manage, my voice barely audible.
Dustin’s gaze locks onto mine, his eyes steady, unflinching.“Because you love him more than anything in the world.”
“I don’t,” I say, but even as the words leave my mouth, they feel like a lie.
He laughs again, that same harsh, bitter sound.“Right.Which is why you closed your eyes in pain when I showed you his picture.Just quit and I’ll open a center for you.You said you needed money to open your own practice.Sounds like you don’t enjoy being there anymore.”
“I—” I’m speechless for a second.Is he always spying on me?“How do you know?”
“I heard your conversation with Roni while I was waiting in your office.”
Of course he did.“We’d have to relocate.If I quit, I can’t work as an orthopedic surgeon—or in a sports medicine clinic—for two years in the Dallas area.”
“That’s predatory,” he says, leaning forward, “but we’d go to my house.There’s enough acreage to set up whatever you need for this.We can rent a space for you to start your own practice if you prefer.Give me your wish list.”
It all sounds too good to be true.Like some fantasy he’s pulling out of thin air to lure me back into their lives.But the way he says it ...It makes me wonder if he’s not just spinning dreams.Maybe he believes in them.Maybe this is his way of trying to put the pieces back together.
“I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” I warn him, my voice low, but even I can hear the hesitation.
“Sure, you’re still thinking about it.”He smirks, that cocky glint back in his eyes.“But can we go to your place?I’m starving.”
“Your five minutes are up,” I reply flatly.
“Are you really going to toss me out on the road?”Dustin’s tone is challenging.
“No, but if I’m taking you with me, you’re answering more questions,” I say, gripping the steering wheel and guiding the car toward my apartment.
“As long as you tell me what happened with the asshole,” he counters.
“Asshole?”I frown.
“Carson.”
“It didn’t work out,” I mutter.
“This was your longest relationship yet,” he says, his voice tight.“I was afraid you were suddenly ready for more with him.”
“More?”I repeat, not understanding.
“Living together, marriage ...something,” he replies, his tone flat, almost emotionless.
“That would’ve implied I was in love with him.”The words slip out, and I can hear the exhaustion in my own voice.The kind that comes from having this conversation more times than I can count—in my head, with myself, never aloud.
Dustin’s eyes stay locked on mine, his voice low, barely more than a whisper.“You weren’t?”
The question hits me like a punch, stealing the breath from my lungs.I can’t stop the surge of anger that rises.I slam the car into park, glaring at him before throwing the door open and stepping out.How can he ask me that?
He took part of my heart, both of them did.Santos and Dustin—they held it once, or at least I thought they did.But then they probably threw it away, somewhere out into the world where it gave its last beat.Now, it feels like it’s nothing more than a dull throb, an echo of something that used to be whole.
There’s nothing left to say.No more talking, no more excuses.Just this shared silence between us, thick with everything that’s been left unsaid.I walk toward the entrance.Dustin follows, his footsteps steady and deliberate, always close enough to remind me that he’s here, that he won’t leave until I give him what he wants.
As we approach my apartment, a man stands waiting by the door.He’s holding a bag of groceries, and a duffel bag is slung over his shoulder.
“Mr.Haverbrook,” the guy greets Dustin with a nod, like this is all some pre-arranged agreement.“I’ve got everything you requested.Groceries, clothes, the essentials.”
