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A year & a half later
Tatiana is starting a brand new business called Brave Beauty Marks.
I know this because I broke down and read every post on her Instagram account in a drunken rage last night, but I don’t care how pathetic that sounds.
I miss her that fucking much.
After hiring a nurse to look after Penelope for half a day, I flew to Reno to see if enough time had passed for Tatiana to come to her senses and change her mind about us.
I park my car in front of the building where she’s hosting a “strategy meeting” a few hours from now and step outside with roses.
Through the cafe’s windows, I watch her for several minutes. Then, because I can’t help it, I call her.
She stares at her phone’s screen as my name appears, and right when I think she’s letting it go to voicemail, she holds it up to her ear.
“Hello?” she answers.
“How are you?”
“Travis…” She lets out a slow breath. “You promised not to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Hold onto me.” She swallows. “We agreed.”
“There was no ‘we’ in that fucking decision,” I say. “You made that on your own and you know that.”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t been well. You?”
“Same.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible,” she says. “Your career is flourishing.”
“Yours is, too.”
A smile crosses her face, but it falters. “I can’t do this, Travis. I have to go.”
She hangs up before I can ask another question, and a guy in grey sits across from her.
He clasps her hand and kisses it.
What the…
Without thinking, I walk inside the cafe and approach their table.
“We need to talk.” I glare at her, keeping my voice firm. “Now.”
“Oh no,” her date says, smiling. “Are we at your table?”
“What?” Tatiana and I say in unison.
“You’re Travis Carter.” He smiles and holds up his hand in a playful surrender. “I am not trying to be a hero if this is your typical spot. I watch the UFC and I’m a huge fan of yours.”
“Oh my god!” The manager rushes over. “Can I get a picture with you?”
“In a minute,” I say, still looking at Tatiana. “I need to talk to someone first.”
“I’m a big fan of yours as well,” Tatiana says, with no emotion whatsoever. “I’m always amazed at how well youlet goof the match when it’s over and move on to the next.”
