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Hannah wasn’t afraid of him. She wouldn’t phrase it like that, but neither would she say she was at ease. It wasn’t just the baby hormones that were messing with her gut, and that was the truth of it.
The bar was black and red. Monotone. Mark was at the black granite bar on a high red stool. She saw him, ignored the rest of the establishment, and walked over his way. He was talking to a barman, but he must have heard her heels over the low hum of the crowd and the piano playing in the background because he turned around, his eyes lighting up when he saw her.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d wear the dress,” he admitted with a sheepish smile as he climbed off the stool, clasped her arms in his hands, then bent down to kiss her.
She tilted her head to the side, so he could only kiss her cheek, and recognized that she’d made a mistake by wearing the dress. She’d thought to appease him, take him off guard by doing as he’d requested. Instead, he was taking it in a positive light. Reading into this way too much for her own good.
She clambered onto the stool and said, “I’ll have a cranberry juice, please.”
“Splash some vodka in,” Mark directed to the barman as he made the order.
“No! I can’t have any alcohol.”
Mark blinked at her, but nodded at the barman. “Just juice then.” To Hannah, he asked, “Why no alcohol?”
“It’s not agreeing with me at the moment.”
Her platitude seemed to agree with him because he nodded, then grinned brightly at her. “It’s good to see you, Hannah.”
“You’ve seen me nearly every day since you’ve been here, Mark,” she countered. He’d popped up everywhere. The coffee shop she frequented after her daily run. The mall where she’d gone to buy new bed linen. If he didn’t see her out and about, he came to the house for a coffee.
She could add ‘stalkerish’ to the list of adjectives she had to describe him.
“I know, but not like this. We should have met up at the start, dated for real again so I could show you how much you mean to me, but I knew you wouldn’t want to do that. You’re so stubborn sometimes,” he chided. “And I only ever want what’s best for you.”
She frowned at him then took a sip of her juice when the barman placed a chilled glass before her. “I don’t need you to decide what’s best for me, Mark. That’s your problem. You want too much from me. You expect too much, and it’s never for me to just be myself.”
His eyes widened at what must have seemed like an unexpected attack.
Unlike with James, with whom she attacked first and enjoyed the battle that triggered between them, Hannah always maintained the peace with Mark. It was easier, and the arguments between them rarely ended happily. With James, they laughed it off. Mark sulked. And she hated sulkers.
Her words had Mark tugging at his collar. “That’s not fair, Hannah.”
“Isn’t it?” She shrugged. “It’s how I feel. It’s one of the many reasons why I left.”
“Many reasons?” He blinked at her. “I thought this was…”
Her brow puckered. “You thought it was what?”
“I thought you arranged all this so that I’d come follow you here and propose. You’ve made me work for it, certainly,” he retorted, his teeth gritting a little. He’d come onto her several times while they were here, and that was the last thing she’d wanted.
After James, well, she never wanted Mark again.
Jeez. Why would she?
One night with James wasn’t enough to turn her into a nun because no man could ever compare, so why bother, but it would keep her strong for a little while longer.
Memories sometimes tasted better than reality.
And the reality with Mark was… well, unimpressive. She hadn’t slept with him for a long time. Had used her period as an excuse, and had even taken to using work as a reason to stay at the office long into the night. That was probably one of the reasons why she’d done so well recently with her contracts. So many hours spent avoiding Mark, so she wouldn’t have to put out…
Hell, she was almost ashamed of herself. Why had she stayed for so long? What an idiot she’d been.
At his words, though, she shook her head. It didn’t surprise her that he’d totally misread her signals. Mark never listened. That was his problem. If he’d listened when she’d left, he’d have heard the finality to her tone, and if he had, these past weeks, while still complicated, would have been a hell of a lot simpler.
“Marrying you was the last thing on my mind, Mark,” she told him simply. It wasn’t good for his ego, but his ego was healthy anyway.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Hannah. Marriage has always been on the cards for us. This little detour was just a final rebellion, that’s all. I’ve allowed it, because I think it only right you know how much you mean to me, but it’s definitely time for the game to be over. It’s run its course now.”
