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He blinks and holds up his hands as if he was warding off a physical attack. “No, of course not. That was all me. And it was so fucking stupid.”
“Don’t forget cruel and hypocritical.”
He flinches and crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay…I agree, it was cruel. But hypocritical?”
I scoff in disgust. Of course, he wouldn’t see it. “Yes,” I snap. “Because even if it had been me in that picture, how could you react like that when you had a girlfriend the entire time we were together?” I demand.
He waves my words away with an impatient flick of his hand. “I told you about her.”
I cluck my tongue in disbelief. “One day before you left. Mere hours before you decided I didn’t deserve the same grace I’d shown you.”
He has the grace to flush but sets his jaw. “I was a kid, Beth.”
I shake my head in violent disagreement. “We were the same age. It’s just who you are. You’d do the very same thing today.”
He leans away, affronted. “Of course I wouldn’t. “
“Well, now we’ll never know.”
My regret is thick enough to choke on. I need to get out of here before I say more than I want to.
“Beth, I know I broke—”
“You have no idea what you broke. And for nothing.” I fork my hands through my hair, finger combing it up into a ponytail. I hold his eyes while I snag the hairband from around my wrist and put my hair in a ponytail.
“Beth, I know…”
I shake my head and put a finger up in the air. “You don’t know.”
“Then fucking tell me,” he growls and throws his hands in the air.
“Don’t you curse at me, Carter.” I bellow back, my face hot with anger.
He opens his mouth only to slam it closed and pace away from me. He turns back abruptly. “Please tell me how I hurt you so I can try to fix it.” His expression is contrite, but his jaw is clenched so tightly a muscle jumps in his cheek.
I scoff and reach under my blouse to tug my bra back into place. “Just stay away from me, you menace.”
He laughs, throwing his head back and the sight of his gorgeously veined, tanned, strong neck is so riveting I fumble with my buttons. “It wasn’t a compliment.”
His smile fades, but his eyes stay soft and warm. “I know. But dammit, Beth, I’ve missed this. You. Us. Even when we’re fighting there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
I see nothing but sincerity in his eyes. He means it. But he’s looked at me like that before, and whatever feelings inspired it then didn’t stop him from taking a sledgehammer to my stitched heart.
I don’t have to imagine how agonizing it will be if—no, when—he does it again.
“Here, let me.” He moves my hands away from my blouse and bends his head while he buttons my shirt.
I’m tempted to let him take care of me.
He’s like a cloud, pregnant with rain hovering over my desert dry heart. He could breathe life back into it.
I stare at the glossy waves in his dark hair and tears sting the back of my eyes. This could have been us.
The breath I draw in carries the mint of his shampoo. Even his smell is the same. But nothing else is. Especially not me.
“No.” I tug my shirt free. “You don’t get to do this,” I say with gritted teeth.
He has the nerve to look wounded. “Touch you? Take care of you?”
