Kelly Jamieson by How (html) (bill gates books to read txt) 📗

couldn't breathe. Theystood there looking at each other, and she fought the tears stinging her eyes.

"Just go!" she finallyburst out and turned her back on him so he wouldn't see the tears spill over.He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged themoff. "Please, Trey, don't drag this out. It's killing me."

"I'm sorry."

Not only was she heartbroken, shewas pissed. How could he be such an idiot? She swiped her hands across hereyes. "Just go. If you're not man enough to deal with your problems, ifyou're too chicken-shit to admit your feelings, I don't want to be withyou."

He went very still behind her. Sheimmediately regretted her words. Hell, it was the truth. Blunt. Honest. If ithurt his feelings--ha! Like he had any feelings--too bad for him. Why should shebe the only one in pain?

She turned to him, looked at him fora long moment, searching his eyes, studying the strong line of his jaw, thefirm lips that could look so forbidding but give so much pleasure, the rough,dark stubble on lean cheeks, his short, dark hair standing in all differentdirections from running his hands through it. At this moment her biggest regretwas she'd never photographed him and would only have memories of his image.

She put her hands on his face,feeling his rough warmth, and he closed his eyes and turned his mouth into onepalm, kissing her there.

The pain was agonizing, thesweetness of his touch almost beyond bearing. She swallowed a sob, and heleaned down to kiss her mouth, softly, tenderly. She opened for him, drank himin, touched her tongue to his to taste him one last time. Then he touched hercheek and leaned his forehead on hers for a brief moment.

"I love you," shewhispered.

Then he was gone, and she slumpedback against the counter, feeling like her heart had just been ripped out ofher chest.

Chapter23

Trey'd been back in San Diego, backin his ugly, bare, rented apartment with its drab furnishings, for two days. Itseemed like years since he'd been there, but it was only a week. It seemed soincredibly dismal, he wondered why on earth he'd stayed there.

"You're acting like a bigbaby."

Marli's forthright words played overand over in his mind, in sharp contrast to the pity he'd gotten from others andhow they'd danced around any mention of the subject. He had to admire the wayshe just put things out there.

Including her feelings for him. Hesat on his cheap couch, rubbing his face. He didn't deserve her love. He wasstarting to realize Lisa and Travis' affair hadn't been the sole cause of thedisintegration of his. He had some responsibility, too. He'd known that allalong, but just hadn't wanted to admit it.

He apparently wasn't very good atrelationships, and Marli deserved better, with her sweetness and caring. Butdamn it, it had been so hard to leave her. It was wrong of him to want anythingmore with her. Happiness like she deserved was so far out of his reach heshouldn't even be thinking about it. But he wanted it. He wanted her. He wantedto be worthy of her, to be the man she saw him to be.

He cracked another beer. Then hestared at the bottle in his hand. He was headed back into some very bad habits.

Beer wasn't going to save him fromhis thoughts.

He had another whole week before hewent back to work. His gut cramped at the thought of returning, of how hisco-workers would look at him, and treat him.

Who the hell cared what theythought?

Marli wouldn't.

He finished the beer, then droppedthe empty onto the carpeted floor. Fuck.

He stared up at the ceiling.

"Who's going to make the firstmove?"

He heard her voice again. It was soreal, it was like she was in the room with him. He was going insane.

He sat up, shook his head. This hadto stop. Now.

He knew what he had to do.

If it felt like years since he'dbeen to his apartment, it seemed like eons since he'd been to the home he'dshared with Lisa. She was still living there, she and the baby. He hadn'twanted the house, hadn't wanted anything, just wanted out.

She opened the door and stood therewide-eyed, open-mouthed. "Trey!"

He forced a smile. "Hi. Can Icome in?"

She let him in and he followed herinto the living room. He looked around and saw new baby paraphernalia--a carseat sat on the floor near the door, blankets and small toys scattered around.He looked at Lisa, the question in his eyes.

"He's right over there,"she said, nodding toward a little bassinette. "Sleeping."

Trey forced himself to go over andpeek in. He was still so tiny, eyes scrunched closed, little fists curled up.He gazed down at the baby, his nephew, Lisa's son, and tried to sort out allthe emotions tangled inside him. And he knew. Knew this small life didn'tdeserve to be screwed up.

"He's a handsome littledude," he said finally, smiling faintly at Lisa. "Are you bothokay?"

She nodded. She looked tired,wearing loose clothes over a body that was different than he remembered, andsadness shifted inside him.

"If you need anything--you andAidan--you can call me. I know Travis plans to be here for you, but if he'snot, if you need anything..."

She nodded slowly. "Thankyou."

"Can we talk?"

"Sure," she said."Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Iced tea?"

"No, thanks."

She moved farther into the room andtook a seat in one of the chairs. He sat on the couch.

"I...I'm not sure why I'm here,exactly." Trey leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped. "Ijust know I have to get on with my life and we've never talked about whathappened. I just wanted to tell you that I know I wasn't a very good husbandand I'm sorry for not being there for you."

She was silent, fingers twirling alock of her long, dark hair. "You weren't a bad husband, Trey. But you'reright...you weren't there."

"I'm sorry." How