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“I’m—I’m going to—go.” I’m still wrapping my mind around the fact that Lucy didn’t just manipulate me into spending Christmas with her lonely son. She used me to distract him from his ex-fiancée, a woman she clearly doesn’t approve of him being with. I feel like such a fool. A used, silly, pathetic fool.
As I move to flee, Nick catches my hand in his. I try to tug loose from his hold, but he’s bigger and stronger than me and I don’t want to make more of a scene than we’ve caused. He tugs his wallet from his pocket, slides too many bills onto the table before saying to a very confused waiter who still holds our cheesecake, “We’re leaving.” And then he tugs my jacket from the back of my chair before he pulls me to the door.
I’m shaken, rattled, and hurting. I don’t fight him as he helps me into my jacket.
We’re about to leave when a voice makes me stop. “Sadie, wait. Please.”
I turn to see Lucy as Nick curses under his breath. “Not now, Mom.”
“I’m sorry. I never meant for you to be hurt, but I can see now that you are. Please, please forgive me and know that I just—I love Nick.”
I could understand her loving her son. What I can’t understand is the insanity she perpetuated to protect him from a woman he once loved, and maybe still loves. When I say nothing, Nick’s hand tightens around mine and he drags me from the restaurant and into the night.
ChapterThirty-Two
Nick
Sadie doesn't speak as I drive home. The truck is dark and silent, the sound of the radio plays Christmas songs that are way too happy for this fucking moment. I want to pull over and pull her into my arms, because I sense that she's pulling away.
I don't know what to do if she pulls away from me. I won't let her run. I refuse. I'll follow her home if I must. This woman breathed life back into a very lonely, monotonous existence. This woman has me cutting down Christmas trees and planting them in my living room. She has me daydreaming about a future that I honestly had given up on.
Tonight was a bloody revelation.
My mother's scheming went beyond what I thought and was about so much more than gifting me the company of a sweet woman for Christmas.
Why she would think for even a second that I would take Patricia back after everything she did to me, after the scars she left me, I don’t know.
And Will—he should have told me, should have prepared me for this shit I faced tonight. He knows me well enough to know I’d never take Patricia back. Not a chance. Not before Sadie came into my life, and definitely not now that she's here.
Patricia doesn't even compare to Sadie. Fucking Patricia is like fucking a cold, dead fish. I didn’t realize just how bad she was before Sadie. I didn’t realize how cold, how selfish, how wrong for me she was. But now that I know the warmth of Sadie in my home, the inferno of Sadie in my bed—I know. And I’m not settling for anyone or anything less than her.
I don't want another woman. I want the woman beside me in my truck. Forever.
But right now, that woman is pulling away. She's closing down and shutting me out. I can feel it. There's a wall between us and even though I can't see it, I'm not sure I can break through it. She hasn't looked at me once and I'm almost home. Her face is tilted toward the window, and I have a feeling that she's crying. Thinking that she's crying and not knowing what to do about it has my blood boiling under my skin. I feel violent and angry and capable of something terrible. I'm just happy I'm not with my mother. Or Patricia.
I’ll be having words with my mother. Words she's not going to like, and I don't give a fuck, because right now she's the source of Sadie's pain. But I'm making it my mission to cut through her pain, to carve every ounce of it away, to replace it with her cheerful, warm, husky laughter.
I pull into the drive and park the truck, but Sadie doesn't move. She's like ice in the seat next to me, carved into stone.
“Sadie,” I call, but she doesn't reply. I swallow the burn in my throat as I pull the key from the ignition and kick open my door. Snow crunches beneath my boots as I round my truck to pull open her door and fuck, I was right.
Tears glisten on her cheeks and brighten her eyes under the light of the big, low moon. I can tell she's tried to hide them from me, tried to wipe them away. It’s no matter, they’ve stained her skin. But beyond her tears is a pain that’s been etched into the warmth of her brown eyes.
My hands curl into fists for a moment before I reach up and pull her from the seat. I crush her against me, and she lets out a ragged little moan, her body trembling as a sob wracks her small frame. I just hold her tighter. I hold her so tight, if it weren't for our jackets and clothes, I would mold her to me.
“Sadie,” I call again, and this time she shakes her head. She's denying me conversation. She doesn't want to do this with me. But I don't care. I'm going to push her tonight.
I'm not letting her close herself away from me. I'm not letting her destroy what we've become.
I’ll demolish every wall she builds.
“Look at me, baby.” I don't wait for her to do as I ask. I grab her chin between my finger and thumb and force her eyes to mine. They're wet and bright and beautiful. Right now, they're darker than they usually are. I could sink inside them and never come up for air.I could sink inside this woman and never come up for air.
How can she not see that?
“Talk to me.”
She shakes her head, but her voice sounds small, “I don't know what to say.”
