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I exhale, knowing he’s right, but refusing to give him the satisfaction.
He smiles, as if reading my mind. “I think you’d be surprised, Logan. I’m pretty sure she loves you too.”
My heart starts to gallop in my chest at the prospect of telling her how I feel and having her reciprocate. But just as quickly, it’s pushed aside by doubt and uncertainty. I blame years of dealing with Shay for my hesitancy now, but truthfully, I have no one to blame but myself. It’s my life, my control to take. Just because I got dumped on in the past doesn’t mean I will again moving forward.
Maybe it’s time I actually take a risk.
For me.
“Thanks for the stale beer,” he says, dumping the rest of his out in the sink and tossing the bottle in the recycling bin.
“That’s partially on you, man. I haven’t been home in almost two months. What did you expect?” I ask, smiling for the first time in days.
He makes a face and heads for the door. “I’ll bring the beer next time.”
“Probably a good idea.”
He stops before exiting. “Think about what I said. If you decide to tell her how you feel, I think you’ll be happy with the outcome.”
I nod. “Thanks.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. El is wanting to host Friendsgiving next Sunday. She’s makin’ a turkey and a few sides. Gonna eat at noon, and she wants you there.”
“What can I bring?” I ask.
He holds my gaze. “Just your baby.” Then, with a wink, he leaves my house, knowing he got the last word in, since there’s no way I can bring the baby without Hallie.
Asshole.
But I find myself smiling as I go over and lock the door behind him.
Mostly because I know the guy is right. Deep down I knew this was the right step to take but kept convincing myself otherwise. I guess I just needed to hear someone else say it, and TD has always been the one to talk sense into me when I needed it most.
I’m not going to let the demons of my past keep me from taking a shot at my future. One ex-wife and rough marriage doesn’t mean all of them are destined to be like that. And Hallie and Shay are about as night and day different as you can get. I’m happy when I’m with Hallie, and when we’re not together, I wish we were. I think about her constantly, and not just because of the baby.
I think about her.
Because I love her.
I know there’s a chance she’s going to tell me to get lost, but I have to at least tell her how I feel. If I don’t, I’ll always wonder. So tomorrow, after work, I’ll take her dinner. I’ll plead my case and see if she reciprocates any feelings for me, the way TD thinks she does. If not, I’ll walk away having tried.
But if she does, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing her how much she means to me.
My phone goes off, waking me from a heavy sleep.
I glance at the clock on my nightstand, noting it’s after two. Worry grips my throat as I reach blindly for my phone. My first thought is Hallie. Is something wrong? Is it the baby? But when I finally have the device in my hand and look at the screen, it’s with a mixture of relief and confusion.
It’s not Hallie.
It’s the security system at the hardware store.
It takes me a few seconds to fully become awake, as I tap my passcode into my phone. I go to the app for my security system and pull it up. The door alarm has been disabled, but the alerts are popping up for movement within the building. I pull up the camera with the alert and press the button for live play. There, on the screen, is a shot of my ex-wife. She’s in my office, pressing buttons on the safe built into my wall, and opening the door. My mind reels, especially since I wasn’t aware Shay knew the combination to the safe. I’d gone to great lengths to keep it from her. There’s only two people who know the combination and the other person isn’t her.
All I can do is watch as she fumbles around on the top shelf and pulls envelopes down. She roots through them before pulling the one I keep emergency cash in and opening it up. I watch as she flips through the cash, taking a big chunk of it, and slipping the rest of the envelopes back on the shelf. She closes the safe, slipping the money into her oversized purse, and heads toward my office door. Before she goes, she moves to my desk and sits down. I watch as she digs in my drawers, pulling the ultrasound out. She stares down at it for several seconds before snorting and tossing it on the desk. “I can’t believe you slept with that fat cow.”
My blood boils as she gets up from the chair and practically struts out of my office, flipping off any lights she turned on as she goes. I switch the camera view to the one behind the counter, which covers both the register and the front door. She keys in her code, messing it up the first time and receiving the warning alert from the unit. Finally, she gets it right and steps outside, using her key to lock the door as she goes.
For shits and giggles, I tap on the camera in the parking lot in time to see her climb into her SUV—a new one, by the way—and take off out of the lot like she didn’t just fucking rob me. Because that’s what she did. She stole money from me. From our business.
