When I’d said I needed to see Warren and make sure he understood we were over, Brady tried to convince me to let him tag along.
He’s a very good lawyer, and I have a feeling he was using some fancy lawyer tactics on me, but I didn’t waver. What I’m going to tell Warren will be hard enough on him; he doesn’t need an audience.
“What are you going to do while I’m gone?” I ask, slipping my feet into my shoes.
Brady sits up, looking around the room. “Pack, so I can go back to Sweet Escape. Assuming your grandma hasn’t given away my cabin by now.”
“Don’t worry,” I tell him, running his hairbrush through my hair. I look down at the clothes I wore yesterday. A little rumpled, but they’ll do. “The cabin is still yours.”
“How long will you be?” He frowns as he speaks.
“Not long. My day is pretty full, and I want to get started on it. I have to go by the bakery and hear how exactly I’m going to officially take over the space. I want to write down my ideas and figure out what’s a priority.” A smile splits my face as I talk. I can’t believe I won. The space will be mine, and not anybody else’s. Nobody can kick me out when they think I’ve misbehaved.
“And you have to leave room for your boyfriend,” Brady adds, winking at me. He climbs from the bed, naked, beams of sunlight sweeping over him.
He sees me eyeing him in all his glory and smirks. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’ll come back here when I’m finished downstairs.” With superhuman strength, I drag myself from the room and down to the lobby.
* * *
Warren watchesme as I approach. The air around him has changed.
He’s no longer trying.
“Hi.” I wave, taking a seat opposite him.
“You came from the elevator. Not the entrance.” He says it matter-of-factly.
“Yes.” It’s a confirmation he doesn’t need.
“You’ve made your choice, then?”
I stare at him, at the face I loved, the face that kissed me goodnight and made me smoothies in the morning. For me, this relationship was over a long time ago. For him, this wound is new.
I don’t tell him what I told Brady last night. I don’t tell him how there was never a competition, because Brady was my first and only choice.
I tell him I’ve chosen, and that my choice is Brady.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.” My eyes fill with tears. I hate what I’m doing to him, but I’d hate a life without Brady even more.
I used to think sacrifices were a selfless act, and perhaps some are. But I’m willing to break a person’s heart in the quest for my happy ending, and that’s about as selfish as it gets. It’s not like I’m the only one; it happens everywhere, all day long.
Right now, this sacrifice is the only one I care about.
“Warren, I have to be honest with you.” I take a deep breath, because he deserves the truth. “Before your accident, I was having doubts about us.”
His head jerks back. “Were you going to break things off?”
“No, I wasn’t. I would’ve married you.”
He balls up a napkin, angrily tossing it on the table. “I guess you were happy when the coma took care of your problem for you.”
I shake my head quickly, horrified at his words. “Not at all. Just because I wasn’t certain about us doesn’t mean I didn’t love you. I grieved you, Warren. It took me months to feel well again.”
“How nice.”
I flinch at his biting sarcasm but forge on since I know I’m the one who caused it. “I appreciate that you came here.” His hand rests on the table, and I place my hand on top. He starts to pull away, but I press down firmly, stopping him. “I want the best for you, Warren. I want you to find happiness with someone.”
