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“You’re comparing me to a man who tried to kill you?” Anger poured into him at her unfounded accusation.
“No, but you make me do things that don’t make sense. I can’t think when you’re around. You invade every space, occupy every thought. And now Robbie’s out, and I can’t be the woman I was Sunday. It’s irresponsible.”
Lucas stared hard at her, trying to see beneath her defenses in order to understand what drove her to believe he was bad for her. “He was the wrong guy to be with, Addy. But I’m not, and it’s a shame you can’t put aside your irrational fears to see that.”
Addy’s gaze sliced him as efficiently as a cleaver. He almost looked down to see if he bled. “You need to leave.”
“Yeah.” He grabbed the wine bottle and tucked it under his arm. “I think I do. No sense wasting any more time on something you’re not going to let happen. See ya.”
He felt her hurt from across the room. It was as if she’d been waiting for him to say those words, as if his declaring them justified her actions.
This was what she wanted.
And evidently what he wanted too because he’d said the words, hadn’t he?
As he closed the door and stepped into the night, he recognized the pain ripping him apart. He’d felt this once before, years ago, when he’d walked away from Courtney and his brother, his illusions shattered.
This is what coming home to New Orleans did to him. His ordered life was messy, torn, and crumpled into something he’d never wanted. All because he’d fallen for the woman next door.
Addy slumped against the sink, feeling as if all her energy had been sucked down the drain. An empty shell of a woman, doing what had to be done so she could survive another day. She’d made him mad and had treated him as if he weren’t important to her. And he’d let her, even going as far to dismiss her fears as if she were a blooming idiot.
Oh, God, she’d broken things off with the man she loved.
Yeah… love had finally walked in and Addy had blocked it, shut the door, and twisted the lock.
She’d seen his face—the hurt and disappointment—and still she had persisted in destroying any future they had together because she was…
Refusing to acknowledge the word that popped into her mind, she covered her face with her hands.
No.
But being scared was healthy. Being scared would keep her alive, keep her from being hurt literally and figuratively. Lucas would leave and she would stay. She knew what she faced with the nutso who’d just been released from prison. She didn’t need the distraction of Lucas nor the distraction of love.
His words floated back. “He was the wrong guy to be with, Addy. But I’m not.”
Her heart pulled her toward the back door, toward the man who’d just walked out. What had he meant by being the right man? Maybe he had stronger feelings for her than what she’d thought. Maybe…
No. She’d sacrifice love for her life. Maybe that made her smart or maybe she was indeed the stupidest woman on the face of the planet. But either way she knew separation was the best way to protect everyone.
Trudging out of the kitchen, she steeled herself for a life without Lucas. She’d be okay, just like she’d always been. It wouldn’t be bad. After all, she’d been happy without him, hadn’t she?
Sunday seemed so far away, already a misty memory tucked inside the caverns of her heart, sure to arise to comfort her on lonely, cold nights.
No regrets.
Hope for the best but expect the worst. That was her father’s motto. Her motto.
She wasn’t going to dwell on how similar it sounded to Aunt Flora’s declaration that morning. She didn’t expect to get shit on, but she’d damn sure be prepared if any came her way.
No regrets.
It was the only way to move forward.
Days later, Lucas was still pissed at Addy.
How dare she act as if she didn’t have time for him? As if he were nothing more than a distraction? Hell, she’d insinuated he was halfway dangerous like the guy who’d once hurt her.
His ego was bruised, but his heart felt battered. He’d never expected her to end things like she did—wintery with flinty resolve. He’d not recognized the woman in that kitchen who’d tossed out what they had with little hesitation. No, that wasn’t exactly true. He’d sensed sadness, perhaps even regret, but obviously neither was sufficient enough to take back her words.
