Page 88 of 50 Ways to Win Back Your Lover

I blink hard, clear a portion of the fuzz from my brain. “What do you mean . . . the end of us?”

Unless I misheard her, shit’s about to get emotional.

We’re both on our knees, her face red and splotchy, mine probably looking confused and tortured, on the verge of furious.

She gestures angrily between us. “This has been a charade, E. We’ve been pretending since the wedding, acting like we can pick up where we left off. Like we don’t have ten tons of baggage between us. You’ll never be able to look at me the same again. Every time you see my scar, you’ll remember what we can’t have. Every time I look at your face, which hides absolutely nothing, I’ll remember what I did, what I took from us. I can’t live if I’m constantly reliving our history, and neither can you. We’re done, E. We never stood a chance.”

Oh, hell no. Absolutely not. Not while I have breath in my lungs. “How can you even say that? I love you, and you love me. I’m sick about what you went through. I’m so sorry you can’t have kids, but I don’t care. It doesn’t change how much I love you.”

“That’s just it,” she shouts. “Love has nothing to do with this! Being with you hurts me too much.”

I cave forward, her brutal shot hitting me square in my gut. My instinct with Delilah is to yell. I’m angry at her for giving up so quickly. I’m livid with my father for all he’s orchestrated—Sadie, Desmond, Delilah, and all we’ve lost—but that’s any old day of the week that ends with y. There’s so much helpless rage churning through me, but I don’t want to escape on a run. I don’t want to inburst and shut down, blocking everyone and everything out. I want to face this head-on with Delilah, but that’s not what she wants.

I clamp my jaw, unsure what to do.

For some reason, my attention slides to Candy Cane. She’s hiding under the coffee table in the living area, eyeing us fearfully. She doesn’t like yelling or crying. She’s sensitive like me, easily scared and ill equipped to cope with stress. Normally she bounces back after an episode, slinking closer when I hold out a treat and talk in soothing tones.

I could do the same with Delilah. Soften my voice, coax her to give me another chance, kiss her how I know she loves to be kissed, remind her of how much fun we have together, that love does conquer all, and I think it could work. When I returned to Windfall, I pushed and pushed and pushed, being so persistent she didn’t stand a chance.

For her, I’d tell myself again this time. I’m fixing us for her, so she can truly be happy.

But that would be a lie. I’d be doing it for me. Like her ex, who disregarded Delilah’s wishes, and like my father, who did everything to serve himself. Dad was single minded in his pursuits. Relentless, hiding his paper trails, lying to his family, going after what he wanted, no matter the cost. In his case, his doggedness was selfish and narcissistic. In my case, I thought my persistence with Delilah was for our greater good.

All the while, she’s been hurting in private, showing me one face, dealing with another darker demon, letting me believe we could work.

Being with you hurts me too much.

That pang in my gut twists deeper, and I gulp back a rising sob.

Missing Delilah these past ten years carved out a piece of my soul. Having her back has made me feel alive and happy in a way I never imagined possible, but if forcing our relationship hurts her this much, I’m no different from my father, and he’s the last person I want to be.

I look at Delilah. She’s crying. I’m crying. We’re such a mess, and I don’t want to do what I think I need to do. The thought of never seeing her gorgeous face again has bile rising in my throat, but I can’t keep hurting her for my selfish needs.

“Okay.” My voice catches on the worst word I’ve ever uttered. “If this is too hard for you, I understand. I won’t push. I have to leave town anyway, like I said. See my family about something that came up. You can give my stuff to Avett. I’ll grab it from him when I’m back. And I won’t come to the coffee shop anymore. I’ll—” My throat’s on fire, burning like the fiery depths in the Gates of Ember underworld. “I’ll finally let you move on.”

She presses her hand over her mouth, more tears flowing. I can’t stay a minute longer. There’s no point telling her about Sadie or begging her to change her mind or reassuring her that her inability to have kids doesn’t affect my feelings. I’ll always remind her of the worst time in her life, the bad choices she made. And I’ll likely lose my resolve, revert to the guy willing to steamroll her feelings to get what he wants—her—while she suffers in secretive silence.

Without waiting for her reply, I get to my feet and call for Candy Cane, who thankfully follows me out of Delilah’s apartment, down the hall, into a beige future I can’t begin to imagine.

THIRTY

I’ve called a Bower family meeting. We’re back in Lennon’s and my apartment with our Invisible Man poster. After a round of hugs, Mom assumed her typical position, standing in front of the TV. I’m perched on our IKEA end table. Lennon, Cal, and Jake are crammed on the couch. The only person we’re missing is the reason we’re here.

“Out with it already,” Jake says to me. “And if you rounded us up to tell us you’re in Windfall shacked up with Delilah, save your breath. We all know.”

My throat thickens at the mention of Delilah, a familiar ache that’s plagued me the past two days. It’s been hours of driving where I’ve done nothing but think about all I’ve lost. Gross motels where I’ve barely slept, staring at the water-stained ceilings, thinking about all I’ve lost. I keep second-guessing my decision to leave Delilah, trying to figure out if there’s a way to get her back that doesn’t end with hurting her. Every time I come up empty.

I’m oddly numb now. A husk that’s been squeezed dry.

“I’m not here about Delilah.” I can’t rehash our breakup. Unearthing that mess won’t serve me or them. The second I tell them about Desmond’s son, they’ll once again discover things can get worse. “I’ve learned something that’s tough to say.”

Mom freezes, readying for another blow. My brothers sit straighter.

Cal rubs his palms down his jeans. “Is it Desmond?”

“In a manner of speaking.” I feel like we’re a human bowling alley. They’re the scarred pins, recently aligned after having been knocked down fifty times, waiting for me to toss another ten-pound ball at their heads. Such is my life. “I saw Sadie in Windfall. She came looking for me.”

“Sadie?” Mom’s eyes grow wide. “That’s good, right? If anyone can reach Des, it’s Sadie. I assume she’s single? That’s why she looked for you?”