All those years.
I didn’t really care about your reputation at the time.
He used past tense.
Not present.
Dating was no longer on the table.
“I’m not expecting you to do anything. This is the truth. Do what you will with it.”
Yup.
I was crying now.
The first hot, fat tear rolled down my cheek, making its way into the corner of my mouth and exploding its saltiness all over my tongue. It was horrible, because somehow, I’d managed to keep myself from bawling even after we found out I’d messed up the cruise tickets.
“You bastard,” I hissed.
“I’m sorry.” He sounded genuinely apologetic.
“Why’d you never try again?”
“You physically assaulting me that first time kind of put a damper on my plans—not that I remembered everything.”
“That means nothing!”
“No means no.”
“No means maybe, depending on the context. I had no idea what you were offering, only what it looked like you were trying to take. So that ex you told people about in med school…”
He shook his head. “I didn’t want to come back and see you with Bear. It was too much, after crushing on you all throughout high school. But ultimately, sometime after the throat-punch and my third serious girlfriend, my feelings subsided, and I’d gotten over you.”
“Good to know. Thanks,” I muttered, two tears chasing one another, skating over my cheek. “Now we can never be together. Our siblings are getting married, and I’ve been Lot’s wife for far too long. There is no way the town is going to let me get away with dating someone like you. Let alone our families.”
And then there was the other part.
The part where I truly didn’t think I deserved him and, anyway, never wanted to have sex again in my entire life. Or have other kids. That sort of fun stuff.
“I agree,” he said, taking a cautious step toward me. “But we still have this trip, and I suggest we make the most out of it.”
He squeezed my arms, looking deep into my eyes. I shouldn’t feel insulted, considering this was exactly what I’d been hoping for when we entered the maintenance room, but somehow, everything had changed in the last few minutes.
I felt like I was starring in my very own, messed-up Sliding Doors movie. Only I wasn’t Gwyneth Paltrow and Cruz wasn’t…well, I forgot who else starred in that movie, which meant he was definitely not that hot.
More pieces added to the puzzle that was Cruz Costello as I digested the new revelation.
“Question.” I stepped out of his embrace again.
“Shoot.”
“Why did Gabriella start hating me extra hard when you two started dating? What did you tell her?”
“I didn’t tell her anything.”
There was a pause.
“But she did catch me looking through your Instagram account one day.”