I needed to apologize.
I’d lost count tonight of the number of times I’d almost texted him, but I couldn’t bring myself to say those words via text when he deserved to hear them in person.
It probably would have been easier if I could get angry about it.
I wanted to. I wanted to hate Jackson for wanting more. I wanted to hate myself for getting into this stupid arrangement in the first place. I wanted to hate Brad for ruining love for me.
But I couldn’t.
Because I’d loved what we’d had.
I missed him, goddammit. I missed his friendly, joking texts during the day. The sparkle in his eye when he was teasing me. His strong hands and solid, reassuring presence against me while we slept.
Tiffany draped an arm over my shoulders and rested her head against mine. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
I closed my eyes against the tears that threatened to escape. “Me, too.”
“Will you be mad if I confess something?”
“Probably not, even if I want to be.”
“I thought you were good together. I know I never saw you at the beginning with Brad, but I saw enough, and I’ve never seen you so happy than when you were with Jackson. I really hoped it would work out for you two.”
I went to reassure her, and she looked pained. “What’s wrong?”
“You should be angry at me. I introduced you. I pushed you together.”
“I’m not angry at you,” I groaned. “I’m angry at me. I wasn’t ready.”
“You are ready.”
“Tiff—”
“No. You don’t think you are, but that’s just because you’re scared. Love isn’t supposed to be easy, Auds, and I know I don’t really know what I’m talking about because the longest relationship I’ve had lasted three weeks, but I don’t want you to miss out on something wonderful because you feel like you don’t deserve it or some bullshit like that.” She pulled back and spoke with more vulnerability than I had heard from her before. “It’s a leap of faith, Audrey. One I’ve always thought you were so brave for taking with Brad, Don’t let one bad experience stop you from leaping again. Not when you want to so badly.”
I wasn’t quick enough to stop the tears from falling.
“What you want, Audrey?” She asked.
The million-dollar fucking question.
I loved my job. I was damn good at it, too. I wanted the launch to go well. But if I were honest, I wanted what David had—that balance between work and achievement and love. I wanted someone to come home to who would celebrate my wins and support me through the losses.
I wanted to hire a team to take over the day-to-day work so that I could focus more on the planning and event side. I wanted to start canvassing for new brands again; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had the time to research and travel. I wanted to talk to Tiff about establishing a series of annual events that could serve as a platform for marketing new bars, new spirits, and the talents of upcoming bartenders. And I wanted Jackson by my side as I did it.
I wanted to spend Sundays having brunch with Jackson and Sarah and travel out to have dinner with his parents. I wanted to be standing by his side when he got the accolades he deserved, spend lazy mornings in bed reading through scripts with him, and wake up enveloped in his arms.
Damnit, I loved him. More than I could even fathom and definitely more than I could put into words right now.
And I walked away.
But had I messed it up completely?
“I want him. I love him. I wish I could tell him that. I wish Ihadtold him that.”
“Then make it right.”
“How? What do I do?”
