AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When I work up the nerve to introduce myself, Jo gives me a warm smile, the kind of smile that invites you into a place she lets few enter. I instantly feel at ease around her.
We chat in the kitchen, laughing about the guys. Jo studies me, not in a nosey way like most do, but in a way that shows me she cares. Jo and I are going to be close friends—I can feel it.
“So, you’re the VP’s old lady?
I grimace, but answer. “We’re exclusive, but things have been complicated lately.”
“Guess Gauge is like Atlas in the complications department.”
“No, Atlas knows what he wants and goes in full force. Gauge is…wishy-washy. Honestly, I don’t know what the state of our relationship is anymore. I want it to work between us, and I’m fighting for that, but it’s only going to work if he wants to stay together.”
Jo is silent for a beat before answering. “I may overstep by saying this, but sometimes you need to do what’s best for you, even if it means walking away from what you want most. If Gauge isn’t giving you the commitment you deserve, you need to look out for your best interest. He doesn’t need to be your everything and he shouldn’t be either. You’re an individual. What is it you want to do with your life? What goal do you have for yourself?”
Something about her words hits deep. Perhaps it’s time I look into advancing myself. “I’ve often dreamed of opening a bakery.”
Jo smiles brightly. “There you go. Look into what steps you need to take to make that a reality.”
* * *
Jo left with Atlas for her place, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I look around my haven and the disaster it’s turned into with me not manning the ship. The urge to clean it has me shrugging out of my new leather biker jacket.
I am elbow deep in soap suds when a familiar deep voice drawls, “Opal, we need to talk now.”
Peeking over my shoulder, I see Gauge standing at the opposite end of the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his handsome face.
Crap.I know we need to have this conversation, but I’d hoped we’d wait until morning and not hash this out after the party, where alcohol could play a factor in our decisions.
I dry my hands on a towel and turn to face him. “Shouldn’t we wait until the morning to talk? It’s been a long night. You’re probably in need of a good night’s sleep after traveling back from the mission.”
Gauge shakes his head. “I’d rather get this over with.” He mutters a curse under his breath, running his hands through his hair. “This isn’t working between us. We have to end this.”
It feels like death has reached into my chest, stopping my heart cold. Our relationship grew into something serious, and he’s developed cold feet. It’s why he’s been saying hurtful things, to self-sabotage our relationship.
I can’t accept this is what we’ve come to, not when I love him so deeply and know we’re right for each other. Mustering as much courage as I can, I straighten my back and hold my head high. “No.”
Gauge’s eyes nearly bulge. “No? What do you mean,no?”
“We’re not parting ways,” I clarify, fighting to control the quiver in my voice. “You’re not walking away because we’ve had a couple of hang-ups. We’re going to talk this out.”
Gauge looks at me like I’ve grown horns. “Opal, this isn’t up for debate. I want out. I’m not relationship material. You deserve more than what I can provide.”
His words are like serrated daggers, slicing away pieces of me. My eyes sting with the threat of tears, but I refuse to cry. “We’re better together. I thought I meant something to you.”
“We had fun. Don’t make this into more than what it was. We had a fling—that’s it. I can see taking your virginity was a mistake; it put all kinds of unrealistic expectations in your head. Just because I popped your cherry doesn’t mean I owe you shit. Look, I know I said a lot of things and made a lot of promises, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Don’t cry. He doesn’t mean any of it.
“Like when you told me you loved me and I was your woman,” I challenge, amazed by my confidence.
He hesitates. His face reflects some internal battle raging inside of him. “I didn’t mean it.”
“You meant every word,” I retort, my voice growing a slight edge.
He shakes his head. “I don’t love you. I can’t be your man. We. Are. Done.”
As much as his words sting, deep down I know he’s lying. I may not understand what made him doubt us, but I know it was real when he confessed his love for me.
“I have needs, needs that you can’t fulfill,” he adds.
