Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Bex was livid. She stormed into the apartment, her face red, her voice shaking as she accused me of cheating on her. I tried to explain it was just a party, that I didn’t touch a single woman there, but she wasn’t hearing it, and I didn’t like her tone. It showed she didn’t trust me and fuck it all… if she wanted to make sure I didn’t stray, she should have been by my side.
“You shouldn’t have been there in the first place, Nash!” she shouted, slamming her hand onto the kitchen counter. “You knew this would happen—you knew it would look bad!”
“Nothing happened, Bex.” I scrubbed my hand through my hair in frustration. “I never even got near one of those women.”
“But you’d rather be out partying with them than with me,” she spat.
“You’re never home,” I yelled back at her. “You’re always working. You’re married to your damn job, and I’m supposed to just sit here waiting for you to give me a few minutes of your time.”
Her eyes flashed with fury. “Don’t you dare turn this around on me. You know how important my career is. I have to work twice as hard as any man to get the same recognition, so I’ve got to put the hours in. And let’s not forget, I’m not the one out there drinking with half-naked women while we’re planning a wedding!”
Guilt started to creep in because while I didn’t look at those women—didn’t want to because I had Bex—the truth was, maybe I was punishing her a bit for not spending time with me in my world. The words were out before I could even stop them. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you actually acted like my fiancée!”
It was below the belt, and I knew it the second the words left my mouth. But the damage was done and I could see by the look on her face she wasn’t going to forgive me for that. Bex pulled her engagement ring off her finger and threw it at me, but I didn’t have time to react. It bounced off my chest and landed on the tile floor, the tiny clink of metal hitting louder than any shout.
“This isn’t working,” she said, her voice breaking. “I can’t marry you.”
I stood shellshocked as she turned and walked into the bedroom. The next thing I knew, I was grabbing my keys and slamming the door behind me. I needed to get out of there, to clear my head.
I didn’t go back for two days. I was furious she’d dare take that ring off. I told myself I needed space, but the truth was, I was too proud to face her. This was on her, not me. I wasn’t the one who callously called off the wedding, and she would have to work hard to get back in my good graces and convince me to put that ring back on her finger.
On the third day, I went home, ready to talk about things, but she was gone. The apartment was half-empty, only my things remaining, and a note sat on the kitchen counter.
“I’m sorry this didn’t work out. –B”
I was stunned. I’d expected we’d fight and bicker and then make up with wild, passionate lovemaking to seal the deal. We’d persevere like we always did, and like a fool, I waited a few days to see if she’d come back.
She didn’t.
She didn’t call or text.
And neither did I. My pride wouldn’t let me.
The next time I saw her was when I was in the hospital after my crash. She came to visit, but I was too mired in bitterness and pain—both physical and mental—to even accept her worry over me. I growled at her to get the fuck out of my room, and she did.
The next time I saw her was in Pittsburgh four days ago and my emotions have been jumbled since. I spend far too much time thinking about her and all the what-ifs.
“You need to grow up, Nash.” I blink, pulling out of the heavy memories to find Bex staring daggers at me. But then her expression turns worried, and she lowers her voice, almost in a pleading tone. “Please don’t mess this job up for me. This is my one shot to make it at this level, and if the other drivers or engineers see you belittling me, they’ll all think they can get away with it. So I’m asking you to please put your hate for me aside and just…” She looks around, searching for an answer, and with a sigh reluctantly returns her attention to me. “Just… can you please leave me alone?”
Christ, it feels like my chest is cracking because she sounds so tired and desperate at the same time. Several things hit me all at once—the biggest is the realization that I don’t want Bex to fail at this job. In fact, I’d really like her to succeed. I also need to rise above the past hurt. That was a long time ago and we’ve both moved on.