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“To call them,” she said, even though they both knew it wasn’t true. “That I hoped they’d lock you up and throw away the key.”
“I thought that might have been your answer.”
She raised an eyebrow and waited. Just as he could wait if he thought she was going to invite him into her apartment. She wasn’t.
She’d been nauseated most of the day, but had made the mistake of eating dinner anyway because she knew she needed to eat to keep the baby healthy. Her grilled cheese wasn’t sitting well in her stomach. Charlie showing up at her apartment wasn’t helping.
“You looked as if you weren’t feeling well when I was at the hospital earlier,” he pointed out as if this was breaking news.
“It’s been a long month,” she said, a mixture of adrenaline and exhaustion tugging at her body.
She was showing the patience of a saint by not screaming and yelling. She’d like to scream and yell. But, really, what good would that do? He was leaving. But, way beyond that, he’d pretty much put her in her place when she’d said he should have discussed such a big decision with her. That place hadn’t been beside him or as someone who had any importance in his life.
That knowledge kept her in the middle of her doorway, staring at a man she’d once thought she’d spend her life growing old with.
“Are you just going to stand there not saying anything?” she asked, injecting as much annoyance as she could muster into her voice.
Glancing down the hallway as if he half expected the police to really show up, he shifted the box he held and raked his fingers through his dark hair. “I brought your stuff.”
Her fingers itched to smooth out the ruffled tufts of thick hair left in the wake of his frustration, but she stayed them by tucking her hands into the pockets of her nursing scrubs.
“Fine,” she huffed, not moving out of the doorway, almost afraid to move for fear of jostling where her dinner precariously sat in her belly. “Set it down there and I’ll get your stuff so you can leave.”
“I was leaving. You opened the door.”
His frustration was palpable and had her shaking her head.
“You’d been in my hallway long enough that Mrs. Henry was having a conniption.”
“She always was nosy.”
“I thought you liked her.”
“I did.” He raked his fingers through his hair again. “I do.”
Savannah winced. Two little words she’d once thought she’d hear him say, but under very different circumstances.
Unable to bear looking at him a moment longer, she turned away, put her hand to her lips to stay anything that might be going to come out.
“Are you okay?” he asked from behind her.
She gritted her teeth to keep from verbally attacking him. No need to have Mrs. Henry calling the police for real.
“I’m fabulous,” she lied.
You could mend a broken heart back together, but it was never the same. She’d never be the same or look at Charlie the same.
That magic giddy bubble was popped forever.
She’d trusted in his feelings implicitly and he’d shattered that trust. He’d unilaterally made a decision that had torn apart what she’d thought had been a permanent relationship and he’d not had remorse or guilt or a sense that he should have talked with her first. Her complete misjudgment of that meant she would never allow herself to trust in her own feelings again. Not with Charlie or any other man. How could she when she’d been so completely wrong about Charlie?
Exhaustion gripped her body, making standing a challenge and all she could do. “Are you gone yet? Your stuff is by the door. Grab it and go.”
She just wanted him to leave. But instead he stepped into her apartment. Maybe he’d get his stuff, then go.
“Tell me whatever your good news was.”
Spinning to stare at him in disbelief, Savannah’s stomach dropped. Her jaw did, too.
