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I close my eyes and sway a little, feeling torn. “I’m going,” I state firmly, unable to tame the monster inside me. “Try to see it from my perspective.”
“I see more than you think I do.” His eyes penetrate my soul.
“What does that mean?” I ask, my tone low and dangerous. I’m on the ledge and I know it. Except I don’t want to be talked down.
“It means your actions tell me everything I need to know.”
“That’s not fair. You know what he did to me and why I have to go. He needs to know what he’s doing is NOT OKAY!” My voice rises uncharacteristically. It’s not right. I can’t take this out on Slade.
“Don’t you think he knows? Do you really have to be the one to tell him?” Slade challenges.
“Yes. It has to come from me. He has to be told it’s all kinds of wrong. Crazy wrong!” My anger grows hotter. “And I want to say it to his face. I want him to feel the spray of my spittle on his face as I yell at him!” Such irony. I’m practically shouting right now. I never shout.
I lower my head and take a few seconds to calm down. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you. Never with you.”
“I know. I can see how upset you are, and I understand. I really do. You have good reason to be angry. I get it. But I’m asking you, please don’t do this,” Slade pleads in his quiet manner. “We have each other and he can’t take that away from us. What he’s doing doesn’t matter.”
But there’s a fire in my chest that won’t be squelched. I have to do this. For myself. For closure. For all women everywhere.
I zip up my suitcase as my phone dings with a text. My Uber’s here.
I face him again. The devastated glint in his eyes slays me. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I have to do this. Please try to put yourself in my position.” My eyes fill with tears, but I don’t let them fall.
I push my way past him and head outside to where my Uber waits to take me to the airport.
He follows. “Wait. Please. Think about this first. Let’s talk it through.”
He’s tugging on my heartstrings with a force I find tough to ignore. Our connection is scary strong.
I’m severing it, and I know I will regret my actions. My rage has taken control of me—and I’m allowing it to happen. I can’t let this go. I just can’t.
I get in the car and roll down my window. “I’m sorry.”
The car starts to move forward, gaining speed.
“Stay here, Marin! Marryme!” he hollers.
The driver slows down a bit, almost coming to a stop. “Oh wow. Did you hear that? Do you want me to stop, ma’am?”
I stare straight ahead, both my inhales and exhales unsteady. I clasp my hands together to stop them from shaking. Who am I kidding? My entire body is trembling. Am I dreaming or did he just propose? Now? Why now? He knows it’s too soon for us. Why did he choose this tiny little second in time to propose? It might not seem romantic to the casual onlooker, but it’s the most romantic proposal I’ve ever received. I mean, it’s only the second one in my lifetime, but it doesn’t compare to the first fanciest-restaurant-in-town one. Not even close.
I see Slade in the side mirror, standing there waiting for my response. I’ve never seen him more vulnerable, more handsome. His dark hair, his dark eyes, his olive skin, his kindness, his humor, his casual nature—everything he is all combines to create the perfect man for me. He’s taught me what true love really is. I hate myself for doing this to him, for causing him pain.
The car’s brake lights are giving him hope. Hope that I’m changing my mind, hope that I’ll run out of the car, fall into his arms screaming YES!
I want that. I want it more than anything in the world.
“No,” I answer in a resolute tone. “Keep going.”
That’s the moment I know my heart doesn’t belong to me anymore. I’m leaving it behind, traveling without it. I hope he’ll treat it kindly. I hope he won’t break it. I hope he can find it within himself to forgive me.
Because I’m dead set on this journey of revenge, and nothing is about to stop me.
Even another proposal that means the absolute world to me.
I love him, not the man I’m traveling to see.
Right?
