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“A little late for an I’m sorry, don’t you think?” Marin spat out.
“Yes,” Elle said, no sarcasm in her tone. “But I was taught that when you screw up, you take responsibility for it. I screwed up. I owe an apology to you, too.”
Marin walked down the front steps of Donovan’s porch, not wanting to air their dirty laundry for anyone who might pass by. “Not interested.”
Elle released a breath and faced Marin. “Yeah. I imagine you’re not. I’m sure you don’t want to hear anything from me at all. But maybe one day you’ll end up thanking me.”
This woman was fucking unbelievable. “Oh, is that right? What? For almost getting me fired?”
“Suri was never going to fire you. Not for that.” Lines appeared around her eyes, like the dappled sunlight was too much. “But you’re young. You have your whole career in front of you. Your whole damn life. Don’t screw that up chasing some guy who’s incapable of real emotion. He’ll just drain you dry.”
“Incapable of emotion?” Marin scoffed, her disbelief too big to hold in. “Have you met Donovan? He’s not incapable. He’s got too much of it.”
She made a sound like that was the most ridiculous statement she’d ever heard. “Yeah, well that guy who’s so full of emotion just packed a suitcase and headed out of here without so much as a good-bye. I’d say he looked broken up about it, but he seemed just fine to me.”
Marin’s heart dropped into her stomach. “He left?”
McCray’s brief smile held no triumph, no malice, just a deep weariness. Sadness. “Take it from someone who already made this mistake. Cut bait and run, Dr. Rush. We both deserve someone who wouldn’t be able to walk away that easily.”
And with that, she turned around and headed back up the walking path, her heels kicking up the gravel, leaving only dust, an empty house, and Marin behind.
Donovan had left. Without a word. Just like that.
He’d already dipped their time in bronze and put it on a shelf.
She was just another trophy now. Nestled in between McCray and the spot for the next woman who’d warm his bed but not get through the fortress around his heart.
She’d told herself early on she was prepared for this to end. That she’d put protections in place. She’d set a date, for God’s sake.
But turns out, she wasn’t prepared at all.
Heartbreak was like a tornado. Even when you saw it coming, you never knew how much it could tear everything apart until it was upon you.
And falling for Donovan West was an EF5.
32
The bottles behind the bar weren’t blurring yet. This was an unacceptable set of circumstances. Donovan motioned the bartender for another Jack and Coke. The guy poured him another drink and set a bowl of peanuts next to it.
“That’s bartender code for pace yourself, doc,” Lane said as he slid into the seat next to Donovan. He looked to the bartender. “Can I get a Miller Lite?”
Donovan kicked back his drink. “What’s the good of calling a ride if you pace yourself?”
Lane smirked. “Because if you vomit in my new Corvette, I’m going to forget I like you and kick your ass.”
“Noted.”
“So why are we getting drunk on a random Thursday night?” Lane lifted the beer the bartender had plunked in front him and drank, eyeing Donovan. “And why’d you call me? I thought you were pissed at me for taking your girl out.”
“Maybe she should’ve stayed on that date with you. God knows she would’ve been better off,” Donovan muttered.
Lane frowned and set his bottle down. “Not that I’m going to disagree that I’m a catch. Because let’s face it, I totally am.”
Donovan snorted.
“But you know I never had a shot with Marin. She was great to hang out with, but she was with you that whole night. Even when she was in my arms dancing, she was with you.”
Donovan stared into his drink, the words like acid on open wounds. “It was just a fantasy role-play. She was caught up in it.”
