“Don’t. It’s what I wanted for you. Trey, I wanted desperately for you to have all the success you ever dreamed of. You were so smart. I would have hated myself if I did anything to ruin that.”
“That’s bullshit.” I bite the inside of my lip. Fuck. Everything she says makes me feel like more of a prick.
Why did my life have to be easy? She was the one with an asshole of a father. A miscarriage. Doing it all on her own. And I was acting like a punk cocksucker drinking myself under the table and fucking random chicks I couldn’t even remember the next day.
“Don’t beat yourself up. We were young. We made wrong choices. But I’d like to think we’ve grown over the years. Don’t you?” she asks.
The waitress arrives with our food, interrupting our conversation. My mouth waters as she lays the spread in front of us. It smells and looks delicious.
Once she leaves, I clear my throat. “Natalie, I’ve grown a lot in the last twelve years. I regret a lot of things I’ve done, but I’m ready to prove to you we’re better together now than we were then.”
“That’s impressive.” She winks, and the tension eases from my shoulders. “We were pretty fucking good together then.”
Chapter Nineteen
Natalie
The night sky is peppered with city streetlights. It’s so different here than out on the farm. There I could see the stars twinkling above. Here, not so much. Not that I mind. I enjoyed the farm, but I’m glad to be back in the city.
My head drops back on the headrest, and I sigh. That’s not one hundred percent the truth. I’m glad to be back with Trey. I’ve missed him. His voice. His laughter. His friendship.
I glimpse at his silhouette as he revs the engine. His rock-hard abs and powerful thighs. Yep. I’ve missed it all. My nipples pucker as images of us entwined together the other night, floods my brain.
“You want to go back to my place?”
My heart skips a beat and then thunders against my ribs. I would love to go back to his place, but I’m not ready to see the home we dreamed of living in together. Who else has he brought into our space? Tears prick my eyes. I don’t begrudge him for moving on, but it still hurts.
“Natalie?” He grabs my hand and turns it over in his.
“Yes.”
“I told you I never brought another woman around my family, and that includes our home.”
My eyes narrow as I study him. He’s serious. Wow. A weight lifts off my chest. “Good.”
I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into a happily ever after with him, because my track record is shit, but it makes me giddy he’s not made love to another woman in my bedroom. Yes, it’s ridiculous, but I’m not apologizing for it.
“Am I winning the bet and taking you home?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I’m sticking to my guns.”
“Fine,” he sighs dramatically and pulls down the gear shift. “Where too?”
“My sister’s place. I’m getting tired.”
“Okay.” The disappointment is thick in his voice, but I don’t do anything to change it. I can’t.
Bullshit. You’re a total chicken. But what’s next? We declare our love for each other. Get married? Have a baby? My heart sinks to the floor. What if I lose another baby? What if I can never carry a child to term? Will he leave me? Can I handle more heartbreak?
The city lights flash as we drive by, and I sink into my seat. I can’t lose him again. If I do, I’ll never survive. Shit. Why did I come back? This was a mistake.
A couple of times on the way to my sister’s house, he tries to break the silence, but I don’t have the energy to respond. It wouldn’t take much, and I’d be back into the depths of despair like I faced after losing them both.
The darkness sucked me in and wouldn’t let me go. I couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed or to do anything but curl into a ball and lay there. For days on end, I stared at the wall and railed at God for taking them both from me. Was my father, right? Was I a bad seed? Did I get what I deserved for having premarital sex?
I close my eyes and block out the world. The vehicle bounces over potholes and weaves in and out of traffic.
When I surge forward, I jerk. The scones on my sister’s garage greet me. Wonderful. I fell asleep. Stretching, I grab the door handle. “Thank you for the meal. It was nice.”