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I know it’s not. But at this point, I think I’m desperate enough to risk everything and prove myself wrong.
It’s not long into our road trip until I shove my purse onto the floor and turn toward Davis.
Screw it.
“So, about…us,” I start.
I watch the way his gaze narrows, staying fixed on the windshield. “Yeah. About us.” He doesn’t give me more than that.
I twist my fingers in my lap. “We should probably talk about it. Don’t you think? Clear the air before we make it to the wedding?”
His shoulder pops up, totally aloof. “Probably for the best,” he grunts, eyes on the stretch of road in front of us.
“I…okay.” I chew on my lower lip. Crap, this is harder than I expected. Especially when he’s giving me nothing to go off of.
But if we’re mature enough to get naked, we should be mature enough to talk about this.
That doesn’t make it any easier, though. I fumble around pathetically, searching the drawers and cabinets and top shelves of my brain for the perfect words to say.
When Davis opens his mouth, he doesn’t seem to share my hesitation. “What happened between us, it was just…sex,” he says firmly.
My head slowly turns his way as my gut coils tight.What?
He shrugs again, his face a blank canvas of indifference. “We’re adults. A few nights of reckless fucking doesn’t change the bigger picture,” he says. “We’re divorced and that’s that.”
His head swings my way. Meeting his steely gray eyes is like running into a wall. It’s jarring.
“Right?” he asks, still not a fleck of emotion to be found.
And just like that, I can’t breathe. My lungs have completely shut down.
Meanwhile, my mind is churning out chatter like a diesel-fueled engine. Because I thought…after all the conversations we had…after the confessions we shared…after the intense physical connection…I just thought that Davis might be open to…
No. Never mind. Never mind what I thought. It’s time to face reality.
“Right, right. It was…” I try to swallow. My throat is too tight. “It was just sex.”
“We needed to get it out of our systems,” Davis says, almost robotically, bringing his eyes back to the highway. “And now that it’s out of the way, we can both move on.”
I nod vigorously, all while feeling like my heart is slowly disintegrating inside my chest.
“We’ve tied up loose ends,” he goes on heartlessly, not a trace of emotion on his blank face. “Now, we both have all the closure we need.”
“Definitely.”
There’s this odd sense of finality to the statement. It truly feels like the end of another bitter chapter in the tragedy of my doomed romance with Davis Westbrook.
I feel my jaw wobble and I’m sure my face is redder than a cherry tomato as I try to fight back tears. But Davis wouldn’t know since he refuses to look at me.
This is not how I had expected this conversation to go. I was thinking that we might explore the possibility of moving forward. Together. Somehow. Maybe we’d take it slow. Maybe we’d be discreet and approach things with an open mind. But clearly, Davis and I aren’t on the same page.
In my head, I can hear my girlfriends telling me to put on my big girl panties and tell this man how I really feel. But that would require confidence, and after the way that Davis just discarded the idea of us, my self-esteem lies limp in a ditch. Just like the fallen tree trunks and broken branches piled up on the side of the highway.
So I shut my damn mouth.
I mean—what’s left to say? We got closure, right? Fucking hell.
Shoot. If Rainbow were here, I’m sure she’d be telling me my aura has faded back to blue.
