“Calling Kincaid Energy and telling them to cancel the trip.” Nancy was likely the one who’d arranged it all, so I’d politely tell her to inform Weston that he could stuff his first-class ticket where the sun didn’t shine.
“Hello, you’ve reached the line for Weston Kincaid, how can I direct your?—”
“Nancy, it’s Lena,” I said, cutting her off.
“Lena!” Nancy said, clearly excited to hear from me. “How’s leave going? Have you heard back from grad school yet? Ugh, hold that thought. Arnie’s just stepped out of the elevator.” I opened my mouth to respond, but then she said, “I need to deal with him. Patching you through to Weston now.”
“No, wait! Don’t do—” The phone beeped, then clicked, then?—
“Hello?”
I recognized that gravel. That timbre. It struck something inside me, making me shiver. I couldn’t talk to Weston! Panicking, I hung up, staring down at my phone and breathing like I’d just run a marathon. I glanced up at Tess.
“What happened?”
“She barely let me get a word in before she put me through to Weston.”
Tess winced. “Ugh.”
My phone started buzzing in my hand. “Oh, shit!” I just barely resisted the urge to chuck the device across the room. “He’s calling back.” I rejected the call, putting him straight through to voicemail. Tess was curled up on the edge of her seat, looking stressed. But there was no chance in hell I was going to answer that.
How awkward and embarrassing! Plus, the last thing I wanted to do was get into another argument with him. I let out a relieved breath when no voicemail popped up. Maybe he’d gotten the message.
But the moment I put my phone down, it buzzed with a text message. My stomach dropped. It was him.
I take it you got my package?he’d written.
I picked my phone up to reply.Yes.
You don’t have to go to New Orleans if you don’t want to. I just thought you’d enjoy it.
Tess hummed as I read it out to her. “What do you even say to that?”
She sounded sympathetic. Maybe even a little torn. But I wasn’t. In fact, Weston sounding so annoyingly reasonable just made me even more angry, because it felt like he was toying with my emotions. One second the guy was saying he couldn’t trust me, claiming I was no better than his horrible ex, and the next he was trying to send me on my dream vacation. He claimed he didn’t know who I really was, but maybe I didn’t know him either. It was getting impossible to tell who I was dealing with—thegrumpy CEO who’d frozen me out or the man who’d called me his wife, genuinely looking like he meant it.
Frustration beat at my temples, but I didn’t know how to put all that into words he’d understand.
The phone buzzed again.I want you to have things in life that you enjoy.
That broke me from my spell.Why?
Because I want you to be happy, Lena.
I scoffed and shook my head.I don’t know why you care so much about the happiness of someone who’s a fraud and a liar.
Speech bubbles appeared and faded several times. Maybe I’d finally stumped him.
I never should have said any of that, he finally responded.And if you’ll answer my call, I’ll tell you all this in person.
Text is fine.
I mean it, Lena. I was out of line. I was angry, I was lashing out. You didn’t deserve that.
You’re right,I agreed.I didn’t.
That’s why I’m trying to make it up to you. To show you how sorry I am for the way I treated you.
Weston, you could buy me every last goddamn beignet on earth, and it wouldn’t make a difference, I wrote. Some realizations came a little too late. Because here Weston was, once again assuming he could buy back my forgiveness or my affection or whatever the hell else he was after. But it wasn’t going to work. Never again was I going to let myself rely on aman who went out of his way not to love too much or too hard or too deeply. He’d proven that he’d drop me the second I became inconvenient. I deserved to be loved steadily and fiercely with a love that never faltered. I deserved someone who wanted every part of me—even the messy, imperfect parts. Especially those.
