Page 32 of Vow

Good, and bad.

What she wanted, or what she needed.

“You said it,” she pointed out, not even bothering to hide the ache coloring her words as she spoke. “You said it—we’re over. Done. You chose that, Andino, not me.”

“I did say that.”

“Then why are you doing this to me? You’re playing a game with me, and I don’t want to be played with. I am not a toy!”

She’d told him this before. She was going to keep saying it until he fucking got it. Her heart was not some bouncy rubber ball for him to play with when he was bored. He was not going to keep hurting her time and time again just because he fucking could.

Haven wasn’t a masochist.

She didn’t like pain.

“Please don’t play games with me,” she whispered. “Let me go, and let me move on, Andino. That’s what I want.”

“I can’t do that. I want you too much to do that, Haven.” Andino chuckled under his breath, adding, “And I think you want it to … otherwise, you wouldn’t have called me today. You didn’t need to call, woman. You could have thrown that note away, and forgot about me. You don’t need answers to questions when you don’t really give a fuck about them. So, what does that say about you? I don’t think you want me to stop, or let you go. Do you?”

Well, then …

Fuck.

“You said we were done,” she repeated.

So, shouldn’t that be it? Shouldn’t that end this? Shouldn’t he let her walk away?

Haven felt so. Andino did not, apparently. She wished she could be surprised.

Without a hint of decipherable emotion in his tone, Andino replied, “And I lied. We’re never going to be done, baby. Not now.”

God.

She hated him too.

And yet she couldn’t hate him at all. Not when she loved him.

• • •

“Are you ready for the good news?”

Haven looked up from the paperwork she had spread out on Safe Haven’s bar to see Dale crossing the club’s empty floor. In his hand, the realtor held a manilla file. On his face, a large, pleased smile.

She straightened on the barstool, and pushed the papers into a semi-organized pile that wouldn’t be in their way during their conversation. Sunday happened to be the only day Safe Haven was closed, but despite the fact she could have done all her paperwork from home, Haven still found herself coming to the club.

For the memories, maybe.

Nostalgia.

She only had to peer around the empty place to know she was going to miss it once it was finally gone. The constant movement, and the people. All her hard work, and the decades of history that had walked on these floors.

Yeah, she’d miss it.

Her father, surprisingly, didn’t have an issue with her selling the business. It was the fact she was going to upend her entire life and put it on hold that her father and mother took issue with. Even if her mom was sick.

“Tell me the good news,” Haven said. “I need some lately.”

To say the fucking least.