His jaw was clenched hard. “Yes.”
“Well, that’s not how I work. I don’t treat people I care about that way.”
Exhaling, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate that I hurt you.”
“You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. I’ll live.”
He dropped his hand and looked at me. “Winnie.” His voice cracked.
“I’m just going to be honest, Dex.” I couldn’t stop the tears, so I just let them come. “I know this is not what we planned. I tried really hard not to fall for you. I didn’t want to. But I did.”
“Don’t say it,” he begged.
“I have to. Maybe I’m a fool, but I’m not a coward. I love you. And I don’t want this to end.”
“But you’re leaving,” he blurted. “And I can’t ask you to stay.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Swallowed. “Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not what we said this would be. And you have to follow your dream.”
“But things change,” I wept. “And I have a lot of dreams. One of them is finding someone to share my life with. And if you’re willing to try, maybe we could make it work between us. Maybe I don’t have to leave.”
He shook his head. “It’s better this way, Winnie. You go your way, I go mine.”
“But not if we have feelings for each other! Doesn’t that count for something?” Taking a deep, shaky breath, I forced myself to be brave. “Do you have feelings for me?”
He stared straight ahead. His jaw ticked.
“I know what we used to say in the beginning. But I haven’t heard you say it in a while. Is it still true?”
It seemed like an eternity passed before he answered. And when he spoke, his voice sounded different.
“It’s still true,” he said woodenly. He looked at me, his expression completely blank. “I don’t love you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, the tears hot on my cheeks. “Goodbye, Dex.” Choking back a sob, I got out of the car, hurried from the garage, and let myself into my front door.
As soon as it was closed, I burst into tears, bawling into my hands, my body shuddering with hurt and humiliation. I wept until my eyes ran dry, and then I went upstairs, scrubbed off the remains of my makeup, and got into bed.
It wasn’t long before sadness filled the well again, and I ended up crying myself to sleep, just as I predicted.
But it was my own fault.
The next day was Sunday, so I should have gone to my parents’ house for dinner, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. My face was puffy, my eyes were bloodshot, and I didn’t feel like explaining to anyone why I looked like a train wreck. Besides, I had a lot of packing to do—the moving truck would be here Wednesday, and I was leaving for Rhode Island on Thursday.
My place hadn’t sold yet, but even though my agent had told me it would show better with furniture, I didn’t want to leave anything behind. It would feel like more of a fresh start if I didn’t have to come back here.
I called my mom and apologized that I wouldn’t be at dinner tonight, blaming my stuffy nose on a nonexistent cold that was going around and my absence on the move.
“Don’t worry about dinner,” she said. “But honey, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said listlessly. “I’m just run down.”
“Why don’t I bring you something to eat?”
“No, Mom, you don’t have to do that. I have things to eat here.” I glanced at my fridge with no appetite whatsoever.
“Well, make sure you eat them. And get a good night’s sleep.”
“I will.”
But after we hung up, I felt so lonely I called Ellie. “Hey. Can you come over?”
“Of course. What’s wrong?”
“Dex and I ended things last night, and I could use a friend,” I said, a sob catching in my throat.
“On my way.”
She showed up with tacos and tequila. “So what happened?” she asked as she poured us each a shot.
“Exactly what I didn’t want to happen,” I said miserably. As I unpacked the tacos from the bag, I told her about what I’d overheard at Bree’s house and the final conversation in the garage.
“Ouch.” She handed me a shot. “I’m sorry, Win.”
“I have no one to blame but myself.” I tossed back the shot, grimacing as it burned its way down my throat. “Well, maybe you.”
She did her shot and winced. “Me! I didn’t tell you to fall for that guy. I just said it was okay to bone him a few times.”
“You should know me by now. I can’t bone anyone without catching feelings.”
She sighed. “You do have that tendency.”
“It was so embarrassing, Ell.” I sank onto a counter stool and dropped my head into my hands. “I told him I loved him.”
“Of course you did.”
I peeked at her. “Don’t poke fun. I really thought this was different. Am I just that dumb?”
Sighing, Ellie poured us each another shot. “You’re not dumb, Win. You just love people easily. It’s who you are.”
“I guess.” I stared at my second shot. “I feel like I’m in that drawing with all the staircases that never go anywhere. I think I’m going up but then I turn and I’m at the bottom. I can’t get out.”
“I know, babe. And I’m sorry. One of these days you’re going to fall for the guy who deserves you.”
“Oh, God.” I looked at her in alarm. “I owe you the thing now, don’t I?”
“I’m thinking maybe I’ll give you a mulligan on this one.” She shrugged. “Seeing as I did encourage you to bone this guy.”
“Thanks. I feel bad enough without adding the weight of that particular humiliation.”
“But one is all you get. If you meet Mr. Right in Rhode Island before Christmas, I own you.” She picked up her shot glass and held it up.
I clinked mine to it. “Deal.”
We did the second shot together and set the glasses down.
“Now let’s eat some tacos and get you packed up for your new life adventure,” she said with a smile. “Because even though I’ll never forgive you for leaving me to deal with Gianni Lupo on my own, you’re still my person, and I’m excited for you. Good things are ahead, Win—I can feel it.”
“Thanks.” I smiled back, grateful for her. “I might have crappy taste in guys, but my taste in friends is impeccable.”
Ellie stayed until after midnight, helping me pack, making me laugh, and doing her best to keep my mind off Dex. I loved her dearly for it and hugged her hard when she left. But when I was alone in my bed, all I could do was think about him on the other side of the wall and wonder if he was as miserable as I was or relieved to be rid of me.
Was I just a fun little side dish to him? Had he been able to keep his real feelings locked away? Could I have mistaken all his sweet gestures and perfect kisses and warm, protective embraces for something they weren’t? Was this just one more link in the chain of infatuations I’d blown all out of proportion?