Page 34 of One Kiss


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The end wasn’t tied to James' call. They both needed closure, and that was why she was here. Even though it irked her to comply with his text, she’d come to his hotel because Mark genuinely thought he was ‘taking her out’ for the evening, and she was about to bring a brutal end to that belief. Letting this carry on was only going to make things more painful in the long run.

She and Mark were over.

Finito.

They needed to move on, and that would only happen if they were honest with one another. That was what tonight was about. She was giving him time to realize they were totally wrong together.

Hannah knew she shouldn’t have had to resort to this. She’d already broken up with him once.

How many times would it take for him to take her seriously?

Fuck, she was tired of the men in her life not listening to her.

After James' declaration this afternoon, she’d agreed to meet with him tomorrow, with the intention of sharing more hard truths with him. Of making him listen to her. Hannah wasn’t sure what James was going to say, and she was even less sure about his expectations or if she’d even like what he wanted to talk about, but she had to try.

Why?

Because she was a fool.

The only thing worse than a fool was a fool in love, and over these past weeks while her ex lorded it over her that he’d traveled thousands of miles just to be with her—to prove to her how much she meant to him—she’d come to realize that Mark could never be the man for her.

Because she wanted James?

As she stood in the hotel lobby looking for the Napoli Bar where Mark had said they’d meet, she attempted to push the thought aside. She realized she was at war and at peace. Well, of an internal nature.

Ever since Labor Day, her life had been in flux.

That was the only way she could describe it.

Turmoil.

All the time.

How could it not be so? The man she’d known since Aidan’s first year at college was one of those bastards who could charge a room with energy simply by showing up at the door. He was magnetic. A charmer.

How could she not be at war with herself for being so stupid as to let him get close to her?

And yet, now she’d admitted to herself that she wanted him, and only him, she was at a kind of peace. That internal rumble had begun to die down.

It didn’t matter what happened between them. It didn’t matter if tomorrow was a bust.

Tonight, she knew what she had to do, and that direction, that sense of purpose tasted damn good after having nothing but doubts and insecurities which had been like ashes in her mouth.

The lobby was fancy. But then, that was Mark. He only ever did fancy. The hotels, the restaurants, his apartment… all of it sleek and snazzy. She’d been afraid to put a cup down on the table without a coaster in his living room—it was that kind of place.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she crossed the amber marble and followed the sign for the Napoli bar. Nerves gurgled in her gut. Again. Because this wasn’t going to be pleasant.

Although, nothing about these subsequent days was going to be pleasant.

James, whether he wanted to or not, was going to be a part of her life forever. For a woman who was as regular as clockwork, she knew what a single missed period meant.

Someone, somewhere, was rooting for her and James to get together because she was on the Pill. There had never be

en a problem with Mark, so either James had super sperm, or the fates were working to push he and Hannah together.

Her lips twitched at the thought, and she was relieved she could find amusement in the moment. She’d probably have caved two weeks into her self-appointed silence had it not been for her missed period. But when she’d taken the early pregnancy test and seen for herself that her internal watch clock hadn’t lied, she’d been left floundering. Yet again.

Truth was, if Mark got antsy tonight, then she’d throw this card at him. She didn’t want to use her baby as a weapon, but she would. Mark was a nice guy. In public.

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