I place shaky fingers on the stem of crystal glass of water in front of me. “That won’t be necessary. I don’t mind waiting alone. I’d prefer it, in fact.”
I am at the point where I can’t deal with having Alex in my space anymore. My body wants to respond to his smell, his smile, the way he looks at me, everything that he does or says. There are just too many memories between us, and I want them to stay buried forever.
“Maybe I can call you sometime,” he tries again.
“You’re blocked, Alex,” I remind him without looking at him.
“Unblock me.”
A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, and my first instinct is to say okay and do just that. But then, I remember there’s a reason I blocked him to begin with.
In the corner of my eye, I notice the hostess heading toward our table, the smile from earlier still firm on her face.
“Miss Higgins, I apologize for interrupting. Mr. Lewis just called to say he is not able to make it tonight. It could not be avoided, and he will contact you directly to explain.”
I’m not sure if the disappointment I’m feeling is caused by Julian not showing up, or by the fact that the message got delivered in Alex’s presence.
“Sounds like you’re available for dinner,” he whispers in my ear.
As if in slow motion, I turn my head to look at him. He is close enough where I could kiss him.
I hate that I want to.
EIGHT
Alex
She looks morebeautiful than the last time I saw her. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve missed her that much, or because she’s got a new glow to her. Either way, I can’t take my eyes off her despite the fact that I am obviously making her uncomfortable.
But there is still the way she looks at me, like she misses me, even if it’s a lot less than how much she hates me. That gives me a glimmer of hope. It never really registered how much I hurt her before even though Kyle tried to tell me numerous times. I chose to get mad at him, sometimes even threaten to kick his ass if he didn’t shut up about it.
Now, as I stare into Mona’s eyes, I wish I could go back in time and maybe let Kyle kickmyass into next week, or at least for the necessary amount of time it would take until I understood that what I was doing with Mona was not normal.
“I don’t want to have dinner with you,” she tells me, her voice barely a whisper. “And I don’t want to be your friend either.” She takes in a shuddering breath. “I don’t want to ever have anything to do with you, Alex Connors.”
I literally feel tiny cracks forming all around the shell encasing my heart. They hurt in ways I haven’t felt in a very long time.
I have two choices. I can either listen to her, stand up and walk away right now. Or, I can stay and hope that she will allow me to fight for another chance. Both options give me anxiety, just in a different way.
All women are evil, son, my father’s voice echoes in my head.There is no reason to commit to one when she’ll only rip your heart out and trample it under her expensive high heels right in front of you. And you paid for those heels.
That was the soundtrack to my childhood. And it only got worse once he learned about my mother’s adventures subsequent to leaving us. The fact that she had two more babies after me, and she abandoned them both was the last proof he needed to convince me that I should never trust a woman, ever. They were all after money. The more you had, the more they chased you down.
One of the things my father encouraged me to do was to never flaunt my wealth, and always watch my back, run a background check on anyone I planned on seeing more than once, and never lavish any gifts upon them.
I lived by those rules for my entire adulthood, bouts of anger taking over every so often, especially once my friends started getting serious with their women. Seeing them happy like that woke this fear inside of me that I will die alone. Unfortunately, it only managed to make me lash out at Mona, and by the time I realized my mistake, it was too late.
The problem I’ve been having since has been with the fact that while I am starting to come to terms with the feelings I have for Mona, I am having an incredibly hard time getting past what I was told for my entire life.
My mother knew exactly which buttons to push to make my father’s life hell. He trusted her with his life, and she made it implode. He never forgot or forgave, and he made sure I would never be in that same situation.
I always took his advice at heart, even when it was coming in the form of a drunken rant. I hated my mother for what she’d done to him. I didn’t think about her because I didn’t even remember her, so her leaving me didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. I had not one memory of a life with her, and I didn’t even have a picture to remember her by. The only proof I had that she’d even existed was her name on my birth certificate.
Don’t forget about your half siblings, the pesky voice in my head reminds me. Oh yeah, they are the other two pieces of proof that my mother ever existed.
“Sir, miss.” A waiter materializes by our table. “Can I get you two a menu to look over?”
I stare at the side of Mona’s head, ready to follow her lead. She opens her mouth, then closes it, each time causing me to tense in anticipation.
