Tyler squeezed my hand and turned to head toward the bar again. I watched him, my heart picking up speed as I remembered why I was so nauseous.
Lana grabbed my arm, her wide eyes on me. “Go,” she said, and I knew she meant for me to go after Gavin.
I shook my head. “Lana—“
“Go after him,” Lana urged me.
“It’s not that easy,” I said in a hushed voice.
“And you’ll regret it if you don’t,” she affirmed. “Go.”
I swallowed and nodded. I didn’t know what I would say or why I even felt the need to follow him. But I knew I had to.
I excused myself from the rest of the team and started toward the door where I knew Gavin had headed. I tried not to appear like I was in a sprint, but I was terrified that he was already gone. A void hollowed out my insides. I was practically skipping through the crowd. Faster and faster. As he left through the front door, I spotted his hair, and I had to catch myself from calling out his name.
Damn his long strides.
“Gavin!” I called out once I was outside. “Gavin!”
Gavin paused, finally hearing me, and he turned around just as I nearly stumbled down the steps.
“Gavin—“
“You’re engaged?” he asked.
I stopped just before him and let my breath catch up with me. “Yes,” I managed after a couple of seconds.
Gavin took two steps back, apprehension in his eyes as he stared at me. And with a shake of his head and a scoff, he started to turn around again.
“Gavin—“
“I should have known,” he practically snapped.
Anger… Angry with me? For moving on with my life? I straightened, my chin thrusting high as I watched him practically storm off. A pulse of rage surged through me, and I suddenly refused to let him leave like this.
“What exactly did you expect?” I blurted out.
Gavin paused. “What?”
“I mean, what did you expect me to do? Wait around for our paths to somehow cross again?” I asked. “It was one night,” and I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince him or myself. “I never thought I would see you again. I didn’t think you wouldactuallycome back.”
His angular face softened as he pivoted entirely to face me again. “Of course I came back,” he said. “Chloe, you… you woke me up that night. You showed me a reason to want to live life again, not to just go through the motions.” He ran a hand through his hair, and then wiped his face. “Do you love him?” he asked.
The question made me want to vomit.
“Excuse me?” I snapped. I had to keep up the facade and ignore the bile rising in my throat.
“Do you love him?” he repeated.
“What kind of question is that?” I said defensively. “We’re engaged.”
“So, it’s an arranged marriage?” he asked.
“What—no. We’ve been dating three years.”
“Then it should be an easy question to answer.”
There was an edge to his voice, and I wanted to throw my drink in his face or slap him so hard that he fell to his knees.
