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“You’ve cleaned that twice now,” Rhett said.
“It’s probably still sticky. Milk is already sugary, and my Froot Loops tripled the sugar content.”
“Beth,” he said quietly, stepping closer. There was almost a pleading quality to his voice that made me stop, reaching into my core and squeezing my lungs.
I dropped my rag in the sink and rinsed my hands before turning to lean against the counter. I crossed my arms over my chest. “What’s up?”
His eyes were soulful, reminding me of a basset hound. Like the kind you want to hug because they look sad even when they’re not. I needed to compartmentalize before I did or said something I would later regret. He might look sweet, cuddly, and in need of affection, but that didn’t erase everything that had happened.
“I’m sorry,” he said simply.
“Can you really be blamed for believing the worst of me after seeing those faked texts?”
“I didn’t believe the texts at first, but they looked so real.” He dipped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “They sounded so much like you that it felt like painful, cold, hard proof.”
“Yet, you didn’t bother asking me if I sent them or not.”
“You would have denied it.”
“True. Because I didn’t do it.”
He ran a hand over hair that had clearly not been styled yet today. “I know that now, and I feel really stupid.”
“Is there something you wanted to talk about?”
“Yes. Us. I can’t—” He scrubbed a hand over his face and put his hands out like he was helpless. “I miss you.”
My heart broke, shattering over the hardwood floor as if I were made of glass and I’d been dropped. All the little pieces were too small to glue back together.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked. “I want you in my life again. I know I messed up, and I should have talked to you, but that’s what I thought the conversation on the roof was.”
“But the way you talked about Angelique—”
“Angelique was a mistake. I was lonely, she was there, and that wasn’t normal for me. Sure, I’ve probably kissed too many women in my life, but they aren’tyou. I haven’t even wanted another woman since that night you brought me lobster rolls. And these last few weeks have been miserable without you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to text you about something funny Chad did or something weird my date said. I miss you, Beth. And you still owe me a question from our bet. I want to ask it.”
Now? He wanted to cash in on thatnow? “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He watched me, waiting for permission to continue. “You have to give me an honest answer.”
“Fine. What is it?”
Rhett swallowed, his soulful eyes growing deeper. “Can you forgive me?”
My heart swooped. I understood how he’d felt. I felt the same over the last few weeks. I missed him, and Icouldforgive him. “Yes, I can.”
He looked hopeful.
“But not in the way you want me to,” I said.
He stood so close I could smell him, and I wanted to close my eyes and inhale, but I couldn’t move them from his gaze.
“How do I want you to?” he asked.
“For things to go back to the way they were? I can forgive you, Rhett. I can understand why you believed those fake text messages. I can understand why you fired me and sent me away—”
“I didn’t send you away. You left.”
“Not until I was handed a plane ticket and told it was time for me to leave.”
