Page 25 of The Write Track
The first time he’d said the words, it had been four months to the day of our first date. I remembered marking the time in my mind. I hadn’t been suspicious back then. I knew better now. He had a list of emotions to fake, and that was merely one of them.
“You don’t love me,” I replied in an even voice.
I wouldn’t let him get me going. A reaction was what he wanted so he could point to me being emotional as the reason he couldn’t talk to me. The move was one of his regular tricks.
“I do. Why do you think I’m here?”
“Because you want to win, even though I’m not playing the game.”
“That is not true. My life isn’t complete without you.” He took a big, dramatic pause. “If you need me not to relieve my stress with others, I understand. I didn’t realize it was going to be such a big deal. I’ll do better.”
Gawd, how had I ever convinced myself I loved this man? He was the absolute worst. Nothing he said was believable.
“I don’t need anything from you,” I replied. “I’ve moved on.”
“With Nathan?” His gaze darkened.
I considered telling him that it wasn’t about a man, that I wasn’t even really dating Nathan. I just didn’t want to date him. Why couldn’t he see that? Something stopped me at the last moment, however. There was an alarm going off in my head that I couldn’t put a name to.
“Nathan is really none of your concern,” I said instead.
“You can’t tell me that what you have going with him is better than what we had between us.”
“Preston, we had nothing between us. It took me way longer than it should have to figure that out, but I couldn’t even have all my stuff at your apartment because you said it cluttered the place up too much. Now I know why you really didn’t want it there,” I continued. “That would have made it harder, when I was over in Salem visiting my mother, for you to bring home random women and screw them in the bedroom we shared.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He had the gall to act hurt, but I didn’t miss the gleam in his eyes.
This conversation was over. He was only keeping it going because he was determined to win. I refused to let him claim victory over anything that involved me.
Instead, I packed up my computer and outline notebook then grabbed my coffee as I stood. I couldn’t carry the sandwich, too, and I was more than a little bit sad about abandoning it. But escape was more important.
“Let me go, Preston,” I said. “I’m not coming back. I’m moving forward with Nathan.” It felt weird to say, but I pushed the thought out of my head. If Nathan’s involvement in my life could keep Preston out of it, that was all that mattered.
“You don’t love Nathan,” Preston argued. “You still love me. I know it.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes.” His smile was smug.
“Then why am I marrying him?” I had no idea where the lie had come from, but it was out of my mouth before I could haul it back.
Preston’s eyebrows practically flew off his forehead. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I’m done here.” I started to turn, but his hand shot out and grabbed my elbow before I could. “Let me go.” I jerked away from him.
“You’re not engaged.” He was spitting mad now. “Why lie about something like that?”
“I’m not lying.”
“You’re not wearing a ring.” He pointed out, triumph taking over his features.
“The ring is getting sized.” The lie slid easily off my tongue. Thankfully, as an author, I could come up with dialogue on the fly. “I am getting married. There’s no room for you in my life. You need to let me go.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I shrugged because there was nothing else I could do. “That’s on you, then.”
I marched toward the door, my mind starting to whir and my heart pounding as I put one foot in front of the other. Just what the hell had I done? Whatever it was, the only thing I could say with any degree of certainty was that it wasn’t good.
