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He thumbs away a tear from the corner of my mouth. “I’m gonna go.”
“Are you being an asshole on purpose?” I ask. “You were planning this all night, weren’t you? You knew you really were going to break up with me, and still you took me to bed.”
“Hey,” he replies sharply. “You were the one who instigated that.”
“This isn’t like you. Tell me what’s really going on, because I know it sure as hell has nothing to do with ‘the way you live.’”
Another sniffle. “Someone has to be the adult in the room. I’m doing us both a favor and ending this shit before it goes too far. You and me, we were never meant to be together. Not for the long haul. Look at you, Milly. You’re planning celebrity weddings. You live in a mansion on a five-star resort.” He glances up at the room around us. “I live in a cabin that’s two hundred years old and looks it. This was never gonna work.”
I shake my head, speechless. “Bullshit.”
“I gotta go. I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner, but I really liked—” He stops himself. Drops his head, his hair falling into my eyes. “Please, Milly. Let me go.”
He starts to pull out again, and this time I let him. I’m shaking too hard to keep holding him close. Cum leaks out of the condom onto my inner thigh.
My head spins. What in the world is happening? How did Nate and I go from having the best, feely-est, most generous sex ever to him breaking up with me?
How did I fall in love with a guy who was going to inevitably break my heart?
Nate stands beside the bed and buttons his jeans. I already feel the distance yawning between us. He’d never let me cry like this. He’d take me in his arms and hold me until I felt better.
But now he won’t even look at me. His indifference—whatever it means—slices through my center like a knife.
He’s for real.
This is really happening.
“Let’s talk tomorrow.” I sit up and grab the edge of the duvet, wrapping it around my body. “I’ll call you. We can have breakfast and figure out—”
“No.” The word is delivered in a tone I’ve never heard before. “I think it’s best if we have a clean break. No calls. No texts. It’s easier that way. I’m done, Milly.”
“But I’m not!” I shout. “Stay and fight, dammit!”
Nate runs a hand over his face. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he gives me a sad smile. When he speaks, his voice is like sandpaper. “I’m really sorry. Trust me when I say I never meant for it to end this way.”
“What the fuck are you even talking about?”
But he’s already turning and making his way out of the bedroom.
I unwrap the duvet, determined to follow him, but I’m wracked by a full-body shiver at the sudden onslaught of frigid air that meets my skin.
“Nate!” I call. “Please! Please come back.”
The only reply I get is the chirp of my security system when the front door opens. Closes.
He’s gone.
Chapter One
Nate
Present Day
There have been two times in my life when I’ve wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there forever.
First when my mom died. And now, walking up to Blue Mountain Farm Resort’s Main House with my fiancée on my arm and a heavy feeling in my chest.
I’d rather be anywhere else. Literally. I’d take a root canal and/or our banker’s office over this.
Taking a deep breath, I reach for the front door’s massive brass handle and hold the door open.
Reese wrinkles her brow. “You all right?”
“Fine.” I tilt my head. “Get your ass inside. It’s freezing.”
She grins and steps into the lobby. It’s Monday morning in mid-October, but the hotel is bustling. Guests in expensive athleisure sip coffee by the big fireplace while a small army of bellhops and blazer-clad managers crowd behind the carved oak check-in desk.
It’s cozy.
I resist the impulse to run out of here like the place is on fire.
Looping her arm through mine, Reese bounces on her toes as she surveys the lobby. “Nate, this is gorgeous.”
“I still like the Biltmore better,” I reply, pulling her a little closer to keep her warm.
Smiling now, she rolls her eyes. “Is it the Capulet-and-Montague thing today that’s got you bent out of shape? Or the you-hooked-up-with-Juliet thing?”
I tried in vain to convince Reese to hire anyone else other than Milly Beauregard to plan our wedding. But she insisted, despite the fact that Milly and I have history—a history that I shared with Reese in the hopes she’d choose another planner. While I made it crystal clear I’m not interested in Milly anymore, I did tell Reese we had a fling a couple of years back.
One detail I left out, however? The fact that I left Milly for the last time in tears, angry and confused. I’m not proud of what I did, but it’s ancient history, and I’d like to think we’ve both moved on since then.
