“Maddie, are you okay?”
I give him a passing glance. I’ve experienced a rollercoaster of emotions because of him. And he asks me that?
“What do you think?” I eyeball him, then march out of the office.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chance
My hands twitch on the steering wheel. I look out over the newly mown lawn to the front door. A window by the door is lit up, as expected. It’s only eight p.m. She’s still awake.
I half hoped to find all the lights off. Anything to make me turn around and go home, give myself the excuse that she isn’t available.
But that lit-up window mocks me.
I need to talk to her.
Yet, my body won’t move. Oh, I know what to say—the truth. Would she take it though? Would it mean anything to her?
I take a peek in the side mirror. No one’s coming behind me, or coming up ahead. I’m the only one out tonight sitting in the shadows like a stalker, watching her villa.
Pushing out a breath, I let the steering wheel go. I grab the fresh flowers I bought up on my way over.
Dirt crunches beneath my feet as I make my way up the walkway, onto her porch and knock.
She might as well slam the door in my face as soon as she sees it’s me. I know I’ll deserve that. Heck, I’ll take that over talking.
The door opens.
My throat closes.
Maddie stands before me in an oversized t-shirt. Her hair is packed up and away from her face and a sheen of wetness covers her lower lip, like she was in the middle of dinner when I knocked.
“I got you flowers.” I extend the bouquet.
Her gaze drops to it. She doesn’t move for a long time. Then finally, she takes it. “Thanks.”
She’s still not looking at me.
My heart fists. I knew to expect that she wouldn’t accept me with open arms. It still hurts to know it for certain.
I glance at our surroundings, then back to her. “May I come in?”
Her gaze whips up to me. “Why?”
“Just to talk.” I swallow. “I want to tell you everything.”
Maddie bites her lip, contemplation in her gaze. A beat passes and then she steps to the side, still holding the door open.
It should be a relief that she gave me an audience at all, but my stomach twists.
I would have to admit things I’ve kept to myself all these years, but she deserves that much.
Remnants of her dinner sit on a plate on the coffee table. Once the door closes, Maddie skirts around me to pick up the plate.
“Make yourself at home.” She waves at the living room before leaving.
I take a seat on a too-fluffy cushion and wait.
