The air leaves my lungs. She was my best friend and one of the managers who worked beside me. We shared lunches and covered each other’s shifts, and she held me while I cried about Adam not choosing me.
I hold on to the edge of the counter because the ground is tilting under my feet. “How could you?”
“Wendy,” he begs, “it was a mistake. She saw how lonely I was and wanted to make me happy. And please don’t give me that innocent angel act. You’ve been fucking a random guy who’s staying at the B&B. I never would’ve thought you’d do that.”
He moves closer. “I love you, Wendy. I need you. I want to be with you and spend the rest of our lives together. Come back to California with me. We can leave the past where it is, and you can forget about that distraction.”
“Distraction?” I repeat. “Is that what Gwyneth was? Or would you say she was more of a rebound?”
“It meant nothing. It was just sex and?—”
“Oh, so she was your summer slut.” I throw the words he used for me back in his face.
His expression shifts, and he places his hand on my face, then leans in to kiss me. “I forgive you.”
I step away from him. “You don’t want me. You just don’t want anyone else to have me.”
Every layer of the character he plays disappears.
“You disgust me. I would never be with anyone who speaks about me the way you have.”
He steps back. “I was angry and?—”
“Bullshit.” I’m pissed now. “You spent five years making every decision for me. Where we ate, when we slept, which projects I took at work, and who I was conveniently friends with.” I stare at him, wondering if this has been going on longer than what he’s saying. “I trusted you. Meanwhile, you were just managing me the same way you do everyone else.”
“That’s not true.”
“I almost fell for the act because you’re so goddamn good at this.” My voice trembles, but I keep going. “I’ve been watching you all week. How you are with Gran, the Bees, and even with Carter. You can’t keep your masks straight.”
“I care about you, Wendy.”
“Why are you here?” I ask. “This isn’t it.”
He goes still and exhales. “I want you as my wife, Wendy. And I’ve begged the company to promote you to the position you always deserved to have. Vice president of operations.”
I blink a few times at him. “What?”
“Three-hundred-fifty-thousand-dollar base salary, performance bonus, equity stake, full relocation, a signing bonus that you can negotiate. I’ve been working on this for over a year, and they want you for the position. Of course, it comes with benefits.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper, feeling sick.
He still can’t separate loving me from using me.
“Say yes. This was our dream.”
Our dream.
Six months ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated at this offer. I would’ve asked about the equity structure and done the mathand convinced myself that going back was the smart thing to do. I’d be set for life.
“We can work through our problems, Wendy. I’m willing to go to counseling, how you wanted. I’m willing to work for us.”
He’s saying all the right things at the wrong time. I should feel something right now, but I don’t.
“Did they send you here?”
The half a second of hesitation from him tells me everything.
“Yes,” he says. “But I wanted to be here?—”
