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He held his glass up. “To both of us making better choices and telling our parents where to jump.” His eyes twinkled, and she realized that he had some news of his own.
She paused before taking a drink. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Only that last night I received an offer from the New York marketing company I’ve been working closely with for Eastman Motors. They want me to join their department. Not because I’m an Eastman and not because of anything my father arranged. But because they saw the work I did and loved it and thought I’d make a great addition to their team. I’m joining them in two weeks.”
“Shut up,” she said in disbelief and then let out a squeal before hugging him, sending her wine precariously close to spilling.
“Watch that wine. You wouldn’t want stains on this eggshell fabric,” he said in a tone that mimicked her mother.
“Then I’ll dye it cranberry. I’m so happy for you, Brad. Really.” She held her glass up and tipped it against his. “To telling our parents where to jump.”
The wine was warm and comforting as it went down, and she felt a similar sense of warmth and comfort in his presence. His face changed, growing more serious, and he set his glass down. His fingers were almost cold as he took her hands in his and she looked up in surprise. What was coming over him?
“Come with me.”
“Come with you? Where, to New York? Are you crazy?”
“Far from it. We can turn a whole new page. You can study for the LSAT there. And hell, you’ll have your pick of top law schools in New York. Columbia? NYU? Even Yale is only ninety minutes away. We can start fresh without our families watching our every step, plotting our entire lives. We can do what we should have done from the start. Make it about just you and me.”
Last week, she’d have leaped at the chance. Now, though…there was another person she wanted. Another person who had her heart. Now and maybe forever. Even if he didn’t feel the same way.
Starting over with someone else, someone she cared about and who cared about her…it could maybe help her heart heal. But…
“It sounds so tempting,” she said honestly. “But I can’t do it, Brad. It wouldn’t be fair to you or me. I don’t say this to hurt you, but what I had with…Cruz, even so brief…well, I don’t think I could feel that same way about you.”
“Good,” he said, not looking the least bit upset. Only earnest. “Because whatever you might have felt or still feel for that guy wasn’t anything to build a foundation on. It might have felt different, earth shaking even, but eventually that would have dissipated and you two would have been left with nothing but those old memories. You turned to him when you were hurting and in pain, and I don’t believe you ever would have looked at him twice if I hadn’t done what I did. I blame myself. But you and I, we’re alike. We both have meddlesome, overbearing parents
, similar backgrounds, education, interests. Everything to build a solid foundation for a long-term relationship. Even a marriage.”
What is he doing? Is he asking me to marry him all over again?
Payton remembered the stomach-clenching pain she’d felt in those minutes after she left Cruz. Returning to her room, packing up, and then…she had waited for him. Hoped and feared that he’d knock on that door and try again. Make her see his way, anything. Just fight for her.
But he didn’t.
She’d boarded that flight, the pain excruciating, wondering how she’d ever feel anything again. Those hours on the plane had felt like the longest in her life.
Monday came and then Tuesday and Wednesday and she’d lay in bed watching her favorite romcoms and eating her weight in chocolate-covered cherries in between going through boxes of tissues for the constant flow of tears. She’d almost made it out once, to go pick up a new cell phone.
Then she thought about all the long hours that she’d spend staring at it. Willing it to ring. Willing Cruz to call and tell her he’d been an idiot and he’d move heaven and earth to be with her—she’d clearly been watching too many romcoms.
And when he didn’t, it would crush her all over again, that is if there were anything left to crush.
So she decided she liked her ignorant bliss. Of shutting out the world and hiding under the comfort of her duvet. Wondering if only she hadn’t put such a condition on Cruz, they might be together now. If she’d been more flexible. Then she put on one of her favorite Sandra Bullock flicks for the eighth time and cried some more.
Until Thursday came. And she realized she was done with changing anything in her life for anyone but herself. She needed to find out what exactly she wanted. Live for herself. No one else.
Even though she now woke up every day, her chest feeling almost ripped open again as the memories flooded back to her, she resolved to move on.
To forget.
She had to admit, what Brad was offering was tempting. New life. New memories. New adventures in a new city. And what he said made sense. About having the basic foundation of building something together—even if trust was still going to be a long time coming.
It would be so easy to say yes. Things would be fun and comfortable with Brad. But she’d be running away. Hiding herself in something that was only…second best. She could see that, and as tempting as that might be, it wouldn’t be right.
Sadly, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Brad. I just can’t.”
Cruz sat in his car another minute, unable to tear his gaze from the scene. Payton and Brad sitting on her couch, laughing together. Talking. Enjoying a celebratory glass of wine.
