Leaning my gloved hand on the wall, I shift my weight to my good leg. “You’re not losing me, Gray. You’ll actually get to see me more than you did when I was in the service. I’ll have more downtime to come home.”
He looks away. “Just don’t forget where home is. It’s been good to have you back.”
“I won’t.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes on the window of one of the stalls. “I heard there was an attempted robbery at Stony’s last night, and you were there. Is everyone alright?”
“Yeah, Callum and I were there and able to handle it.”
He steps toward me and puts his hand on my shoulder to squeeze before he lets go and walks out of the stable. That’s as close to an ‘I love you’ as I’ll ever get from Gray.
19
NORA
HE DIDN’Tshow at the pub last night.
I watched the door the entire evening. Even when my shift was over, I scanned the area in front of the pub for his big truck, hoping to see his long, brawny body leaning against it, waiting for me. No such luck.
Why would he come to the pub for me? I rejected him.
This is what I wanted, right?
Right?
Then why did I feel like crying the entire walk back to the inn? His absence affected me more than I thought it would. It makes my chest ache each time I think he might hate me. He was so nice to me, and I threw it in his face.
My thoughts are so scattered that my focus is shattered.
Then I thought I would distract myself by researching my car again, but that didn’t last long. What I’ve learned is that I should have researched before I bought it. The consensus is that after a hundred thousand miles, they tend to break down frequently, and the repairs are never under a thousand dollars. Definitely not the car to use if putting miles on it constantly with low funds.
My only priority should have been finishing up my new online identity after losing a couple thousand dollars on Tuesday when my freelance services account was deleted. It was morethan just money, it was also all my positive reviews from previous customers, and unfinished manuscripts dropped with no notice, which makes me look so unprofessional.
I’ve lost all credibility, and it’s going to take forever to start from scratch again. I’m sure Matt was counting on that.
In addition, I probably should be sweating bullets because shutting down my account, I think, is confirmation that Matt is still trying to sabotage me, even digitally.
He’s still looking for me.
I’m positive it was Matt who wiped my account. It’s the only explanation, and it should scare me more than it does, but the wretched sadness from being mean to Tuck the other night, and the pain of thinking he might hate me is stronger than the fear I should be feeling.
I’ve been sitting in the bay window seat since before the sun came up. My sleep was interrupted with anxiety dreams all night - some about Tuck and others about Matt. In one dream, I could hear the same anger in his voice that I would hear when he would get angry with me, and I remember our last phone conversation.
After I left him, and still had the phone number from our shared account, he made so many threats. He promised to ruin me if I didn’t come back. He threatened to find me and drag me back ‘kicking and screaming’.
What confused me was why he was so adamant that I come back. The begging and apologies were generic and didn’t do anything to convince me of his genuine love for me.
The last time I answered his call, it was just out of curiosity to see what he would say.
“We have a life together, Nora.” The anger in his voice was so cutting.
“Well, it’s getting a little crowded with the other women.” The memory of him fucking his assistant was front and centerin my mind. Then, to make it even worse, was the sound of him coming inside her as I closed the door that day, and I swallowed down the bile that climbed up my throat.
“So what if I get my rocks off with another woman now and then, you’re the one I come home to?” The anger was gone from his tone, but I could tell the softness was forced.
“So there are more than the two I know about?”
Silence was heavy on the line for several moments before he lowered his tone. “Come on, sweetheart, come home. I miss you, and I want to make this up to you. We’ll go have dinner, and I’ll show you just how much you mean to me.”
