“I’m glad you decided to go ahead with it. I never doubted you’d make it a success.” He broke off a chunk of muffin, tossed it into his mouth, then washed it down with a gulp of hot coffee. He played with the white ceramic mug for a moment. When he realized that she wasn’t going to add anything more, he said, “My job was downsized.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s for the best.” He picked up her hand and held it even though she tried to pull it away. “I was hoping you’d give us—me—another chance. Grand could be a do-over for us. We could maybe think about starting that family we always dreamed of.”
The rage she’d allowed to subside returned as a blazing inferno. They’d both claimed to want children. Now he tried to use them against her as a bargaining chip.
“What about…” She couldn’t say it. She refused to admit knowing the woman’s name. She’d creeped her on Facebook a few times more than was healthy, then loathed herself for it.
“Jennifer?” Tim avoided her eyes. He gazed out over the river where silvery eddies swirled around and under the patio. His Adam’s apple bobbled. “Funny how you don’t realize how much better you had it until it’s too late.”
Then, the whole story poured out. His new girlfriend left him when he lost his job.
Hannah had thought for months about what she might say or do if this moment should come, but found she couldn’t be mean, no matter how much he deserved it. Once the flash of rage burned itself out, she felt nothing but…
Nothing. She’d already learned that getting even wasn’t for her.
She pried her fingers free. “Honestly, you were right to leave me.”Although you might have done it in a kinder, more respectful way.“We were holding each other back. We both have different dreams now. You’ve hit a temporary snag, but you’ll recover from it. Give it time.” She should stop now. She wasn’t his personal cheerleader, anymore.
“I don’t want time. I want us to go back to the way things were. I want us to build the future together that we always planned on. Give me another chance. I promise I’ll do better this time. I’ll be the man you deserve. I love you, Hannah. I need you.”
He didn’t need her as much as he wanted her to make his decisions for him. And as for his declaration of love…
She wondered which of them had stopped loving the other first. Because she didn’t love him. Not in the same way. He didn’t make her heart stutter. He didn’t steal her breath. He didn’t make her long to hear his voice, or to watch him when he thought she wasn’t looking. He didn’t make her laugh. He didn’t fill her with admiration and wonder that something so perfect could exist.
But this inability to think for himself and accept responsibility for his actions was partly her doing. They’d had plenty of problems over the years, meaning they’d both grown far too accustomed to a particular pattern of anger and forgiveness.
Except that pattern had never included other women before. He’d crossed a line, and now, the pattern had changed. He’d thrown away any chance for happiness they might have had. He didn’t get to ruin things with Dallas for her, too.
“It’s too late to go back to the way things were. Take some time to think about what you really want out of life, then work toward it. You don’t need me for that. You don’t need Jennifer, either,” she added, even though he didn’t deserve that small affirmation of his self-worth. His ego had always been healthy.
“I’m not giving up on us.”
“There is nous, anymore.” She stood. So did he. She picked up her purse. “I’m seeing someone.”
He looked stricken. “I don’t care who you’ve been sleeping with. I’ll get past it.”
Which pretty much meant he wouldn’t, if that was the first place his head went. She didn’t think she’d get past his affairs either, so in that regard, they were even.
“You gave up your rights to an opinion on my sleeping arrangements when you neglected to tell me about the changes you made to your own,” she said coldly. “Go back to Bozeman. There are plenty of opportunities for someone with a business degree.”
“There’s a brewery right here that could use me and my degree to help run it.”
A knot in her stomach awoke her to the reality of what he’d really come to Grand for, and while he might believe otherwise, ultimately, it wasn’t for her. The brewery, either. She represented financial security to him. She’d paid for his education. Then, when he left, he took half of the money from their joint bank account too, even though her salary was direct deposited into it while his wasn’t.
But he believed he was entitled to it and the state of Montana agreed. They’d presented themselves as married, which meant as far as the state was concerned, any assets were half his, so she’d written the money off as a hard lesson learned. They really had shared everything for far too long, however, if he believed he could walk back into her life and assume half of what was rightfully hers, as if nothing had happened, despite having left her for someone else.
“The brewery is mine, and I don’t need help to run it. I’m doing just fine on my own,” she said.
“I can see that.” He thrust his hands in his jacket pockets, looking lost and forlorn. “Could you at least lend me some money until I find another job?”
She should say no. He’d gotten so much from her already. Instead, she asked, “How much do you need?”
“A thousand. For rent and to make car payments.”
Athousand.
She was still angry with him over the affairs. He’d crushed her as if she meant nothing to him. Now, here he was, asking for money as if she were his personal banker. The selfish jerk. But she also felt guilty that he’d noticed something missing between them and she hadn’t. She’d been too busy paying their bills and making plans for their future—plans that he’d been silent on, she now realized, so in some ways, she was as selfish as he was. She’d had a goal and she’d forced it on him.