Page 20 of Let's Be Forever

“I can’t believe you.” My voice cracks, but I clear it and look at my watch. “I need you to get out. I’m going to close.”

“Anna.” He takes a tentative step closer, but I retreat, holding my palm up.

“I swore I’d leave you alone, and I intend to keep that promise. You will not hear from us. I promise you that. So don’t worry, no one will know.”

“Know what? Who iswe?” he implores, throwing his arms out wide.

“Get out.” I bristle as he takes another step closer. “And don’t come back.”

He finally listens, taking a few steps back, but he looks like he wants to say more. His mouth parts and stays that way as his eyes sweep over my face, searching. God, he’s so good at looking sad. If he retires early, he should definitely take up acting.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a hushed, shaky voice.

I roll my eyes. “Me too. I’m sorry I didn’t walk away when I had the chance.”

“You don’t mean that.” He blinks rapidly, fingers trembling at his sides, eyes bouncing restlessly over me.

“You’re right. I don’t. You did one thing right, but don’t worry, I’ll keep that between us, as I have all these years.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that, Anna. Please just?—”

I smile, but it’s devoid of any warmth. “Right, I don’t know what I meant by that either. Leave.”

And with one last lingering look, he walks out.

I pace the bakery floor, telling myself it’s okay, that he’s not going to take Rosie.

He acted like she didn’t happen, like I didn’t beg him to be part of her life even if he didn’t want to be in mine.

I thought seeing him would be hard, but nothing prepared me for this. I knew he was cruel, but I didn’t expect him to pretend like he doesn’t have a daughter. The reality hits me harder than I’d like.

Even though I told myself I wouldn’t, I hide in a corner in the back and break down.

9

SYLAS

I parkand tip my head back on the headrest, staring at the roof of my Audi. I squeeze the steering wheel, and my knuckles pop from how hard I’m holding it.

I drop my hands as I do my head, but it all surges back: the repulsion on her face, the dread emanating from her body, the shift in her voice when she saw me. I could physically feel every morsel in her body run cold, the lively energy in the bakery sucked out the moment our eyes locked.

Me too. I’m sorry I didn’t walk away when I had the chance.

“Fuck!” I slam my palms on the steering wheel.Me too. I’m sorry I didn’t walk away when I had the chance.“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I strike the wheel repeatedly, harshly.

What did I think was going to happen? I messed everything up. I broke up with her. I left her when all she did was ask that I open up, but I caved. The pressure became too much. I left her because I didn’t know what the hell I was doing with my life. I could blame my father and the injury for getting to my head, but I’m the one who delivered those stupid words that I’ve regretted ever since I uttered them.

We should break up,I’d told her, and I’ll forever hate myself for voicing them. She just wanted in and I didn’t let her.Couldn’tlet her, or she’d see I wasn’t as in control as I always appeared.

I was so embarrassed of my fears and insecurities, I let them consume me.

“Fuck!” I hammer my palms one last time and drop my head on the wheel. “What did you think was going to happen? Of course she hates you. I don’t blame her,” I grumble under my breath.

The contempt on her face drowns me. Her words dripping with spite choke me. And her jarring abhorrence of me suffocates whatever lingering hope I had to mend whatIdestroyed.

I caused this. I don’t deserve to be sad. I don’t—didn’t deserve her.

I’m not sure how long I stay like this, but I know it’s long enough that the leather stitching is indented on my forehead. Pushing away from it, I breathe out, but a second later, the air gets sucked back in and I physically choke on it.