Page 74 of Wild Promise

Then, standing to grab her coat from the hook, she turned to me with a scowl. “I’m worth more than your fucking pity.”

My body and brain finally started working, just as she pushed past me, out of the room. “Melina,” I called, icy dread still gripped around me. “Melina!”

But she didn’t bother to look back.

“I love you,” I muttered into the empty room.

There was no echo. No answer. Nothing but the hollow thud of my heart in my ears—still beating, even though it was completely shattered.

I stood there longer than I should have. Long enough for the silence to consume me and the walls of the tiny office to feel like they were closing in.

Then I went back to the bar and pretended I was fine. Because that’s what I did. That’s what I’d always done.

The rest of the night was a blur of activity. Drinks were served. Guests made small talk. My coworkers did their best to engage me. But even though I was physically present, I was a vacant fucking mess.

Nate stuck around until after last call, sneaking glances of concern my way every so often. Once the room had cleared and the lights turned out, he followed me to my truck.

“What happened?” he asked.

What the hell had happened? I wasn’t even sure I knew. Maybe she’d found out about the car? Or my plans to help cover Vic’s therapy?

“She might be mad that I spent some money on her without asking.”

“Really?” Nate’s brow wrinkled. “Obviously I don’t know her as well as you, but it seemed a little bigger than that. It looked like someone had ripped her heart out of her throat. And Wyatt said something about her promotion.”

All at once it hit me.

My conversation with Wyatt…

She knew. She fucking knew. And it made me feel like an even bigger asshole because she’d asked me not to intervene, but I’d done it anyway.

Sure, I’d only given Wyatt my opinion on how unfair I thought the whole thing was. And I’d approached it as a concerned co-worker—the same way I’d have done it for anyone else. But she wouldn’t see it that way.

She’d think I was pulling strings to secure it for her. Like it was charity.

Like it was fucking pity.

“I think I fucked up,” I admitted, my hands balling into tight fists. “No. Shit, I know I fucked up. I really am a fucking asshole.”

Nate sighed. “You ignored my advice, didn’t you?”

I hadn’t just ignored it. I’d stomped all over it. I hadn’t trusted Wyatt or the process, or Melina’s ability to earn the promotion all on her own. But most of all, I hadn’t trusted that what we had was strong enough to survive without me trying to fix everything.

“She thinks I went to Wyatt to make her promotion happen.” The words tasted like poison.

“Did you?”

“No. I just asked him why it was being held up when she’d worked so hard to earn it. But it doesn’t matter, does it? My last name did the rest.”

“So what are you going to do?”

The answer forming in the back of my mind wasn’t simple. And it sure as hell wasn’t fucking fun.

As long as I was here and my last name was Alexander, I’d always be in her way. My name would always cast a shadow over everything she accomplished. Every promotion, every success, every achievement would face skepticism and whispers.

I couldn’t do that to her. I wouldn’t.

“I’m going to quit,” I said.