Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3) by Tara Wyatt (electric book reader .TXT) 📗

Fuck.

“Is there anything else you want to say to me?” she asked, her hazel eyes wide and bright.

He pushed up off the couch and crossed the distance between them, laying his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Willa. I only did it because I was trying to protect you.”

Apparently those were the wrong words because she gave a slow, disbelieving shake of her head, her gaze landing everywhere but on him.

She stepped away from him. “I think you should go.”

“Willa, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I lied. I only did it—”

She pointed at the door, her hand shaking. “I need you to go. Please, Max.”

He stared at her, trying to find the words to fix this. To make her understand why he’d lied, that he wasn’t the same person anymore.

“I love you, Willa. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Only you.”

“And yet you still can’t let me in.” She looked out the window. “I’m going to take a little time off from work. I’m not ready to face everyone at the office.” She walked to the door and opened it, not saying anything else.

“Please don’t give up on us,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I know I fucked up. I know.”

“I don’t think it’s fair for you to ask me not to give up on us when I’m not even sure what we are anymore. Everything’s different now.”

“Because I lied to you about Sophia.”

“Because I’m in love with someone who keeps me locked out with secrets and lies, Max!” Anger flared in her eyes. “Because I would’ve trusted you with my life and you betrayed that trust. It’s cost me the sense of security I had with you. It’s made me question my instincts and my feelings and every single thing you’ve ever said—or not said—to me.”

“So you don’t believe that I love you?”

Her expression softened and she shook her head. “No, Max. I believe that you love me. I do. But I asked you about the necklace and you could’ve told me then. When you asked about my cancer, I was open with you, even though I don’t like talking about it. So…everything feels unbalanced, and feeling that way while knowing that you love me makes it hurt even more. I feel like I’m in over my head and I need time and space to figure everything out.”

He felt as though time had stopped. That the seconds had ceased to pass the moment Willa had told him she needed time to decide if she saw a future for them or not.

Feeling as though his feet were encased in concrete, he forced himself to step out into the hallway. “Okay,” he managed around the lump wedged in his throat. “Take some time. I understand.” His eyes burned and he rubbed a hand over his face. “I do love you, Willa.”

Her chest hitched and she nodded jerkily. “I know.”

And then she closed the door.

20

Willa spent the rest of the day in a fog, alternating between crying, feeling as though her chest were splitting in two, and anger, wanting to destroy something. But bigger than the sadness and the anger was a feeling of deep loss. She felt adrift, as though she’d had a map of where she was headed, but the map had turned out to be nothing but lies, and now she was stranded in a dark forest of sadness and confusion and doubt, and she didn’t know how to get out.

She hated being so in her feelings, hated feeling so sorry for herself, so she tried to distract herself with work, but work only made her think of Max and then she was back to square one, back in that dark forest. So she tried to distract herself with video games, but video games only made her think of Max. She thought about going for a walk in Central Park, but there were memories of Max there, too. She’d tried to lose herself in a book, but she was still reading the fantasy novel she’d borrowed from him, the one he’d said was his favorite.

She’d entwined her life so neatly and fully with his that untangling it felt impossible. Everything reminded her of him. And she didn’t want to think about him right now.

So she’d done some yoga and had a shower and signed up for extra volunteer shifts at the hospital. Then she’d eaten an entire bag of Doritos and had a nap. When she’d woken up, she’d walked to the wine store on the corner to pick up a couple bottles of her favorite pinot grigio to help her get through the next little while. Then she’d rearranged all of the furniture in her bedroom.

All of these mundane little activities to try to forget how much she was hurting. How telling Max she needed some space was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. How reading that article had made her feel as though an enormous gaping wound had opened up in her chest, not just because of the personal implications about her being manipulative and conniving, but because in an instant, her view of her relationship with Max had been shattered.

And it hurt. So goddamn much.

She felt as though she’d been driving along, sun shining and her favorite song on the radio when she’d been sideswiped, done a 360 and ended up in the ditch, wondering what the hell had just happened.

She felt like a fool for trusting him so easily, despite the rocky start they’d had. But after she’d found out that he was Mr. 23, after he’d told her he was in love with her, she’d been nothing but putty in his hands. And maybe that had blinded her to the fact that he wasn’t letting her in. That they certainly weren’t on equal footing when it came to big, important things like trust and vulnerability.

Once Dori had come and gone, only stopping in to change her clothes before going