He stopped in his tracks, the accusation halting him.
“Don’t do this, Kylie. Don’t make it even harder than this is.”
“I love you,” she choked out.
He closed his eyes as his wounds began to bleed all over again. “I love you too, Kylie, and that’s why I have to go.”
He fled toward his car, not waiting for her response. He couldn’t take any more. He had to get away before he completely fell apart.
The drive home was a blur. Images of Kylie with his hand wrapped around her neck bombarded him left and right until he was dizzy. The huge knot in his gut grew.
He’d never love another woman. Not the way he loved Kylie.
As soon as he pulled into his driveway, he threw open the door, bolted out and heaved his guts all over the front yard.
TWENTY-SEVEN
KYLIE watched the sun creep over the horizon as she sat in a chair on her back deck, wrapped in a blanket. It was plenty warm, and yet a bone-deep chill had settled in. She had the fleeting thought that she might never be warm again.
Jensen gave her warmth with his smiles, his tenderness, his love. And now it and he were gone.
She wished she could muster the emotional strength to hate him. But all she could see was the desolation and horror in his eyes. The loathing and self-recrimination for what he’d done.
She rubbed absently at her still sore throat where the bruises, shaped into fingerprints, had spread across her skin.
He could have killed her.
It was what he said and what she’d pondered and yet she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. As soon as he’d come out of the dream, he’d released her. He wouldn’t consciously ever hurt her. She believed that with all her heart. So why didn’t he?
He’d nagged at her about her self-confidence and yet he appeared not to have any himself. Or at least when it came to her.
She sighed and stared down at the paper in front of her. Her resignation letter, addressed to Dash. She wouldn’t stick the knife deeper by including Jensen in her resignation.
Her laptop and phone lay on the table next to the letter. She’d spent most of the night Googling and looking up mortgage companies and Realtors. She didn’t need to get a mortgage. She had enough invested to buy a house with plenty left over. Besides, who would give her a mortgage when she was unemployed?
It was hours yet before any of the businesses would open. She hesitated a moment as the idea gripped her. She should go now and place the letter on Dash’s desk. Before he or Jensen would come in this morning.
The weekend was a blur. She’d done nothing but lie in bed, covers up to her chin. In between bouts of crying. She hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept. She’d barely managed the feat of dragging herself to the bathroom to take care of the essentials.
Then her mind had sprung into recovery mode. She couldn’t hide in her house forever. People got their hearts broken every day. She wasn’t special in that regard. Life went on. The question was whether she was going to move on or be like she’d always been in the past. Timid. Afraid. Stick her head back in the sand, adopting the mantra of “ignorance is bliss.”
She knew two things. One, she couldn’t continue working for Dash and Jensen. And two, she needed to move. It was an idea she’d entertained in the past, but she’d never wanted to expend the energy to do it.
Now the letter was typed, and she had the phone number of a local real estate company. It was time to act and to stop being so passive when it came to her life.
Her muscles protested as she hauled herself to her feet. But she pushed back the discomfort, picked up the letter and went back inside the house to get dressed and grab her keys to the office.
Thirty minutes later, she placed the letter on Dash’s desk along with today’s to-do list. She felt a brief moment of guilt for doing this to Dash. He’d never been anything but patient and understanding with her. He was a dream to work for. And quitting abruptly when they hadn’t yet found her replacement wasn’t fair to him. But she couldn’t come in to work where Jensen would be and pretend her heart hadn’t just been destroyed.
She then walked into her office and began packing up her belongings and personal effects.
When she was done, she turned, taking one last glance at the business her brother had built. The place she’d worked ever since graduating college. Yes, she was good at her job. She would have made a damn good partner too. But there were other jobs out there. It was time to cut ties and let go and move on.
Carson was gone. He wasn’t ever coming back. She wouldn’t be anyone’s burden any longer.
With a sigh, she trudged toward the elevator. In the lobby, she waved at the night guard who looked at her curiously as she hoisted the box she was holding higher so she wouldn’t drop it.
When she got home, she left the box in her car, uncaring if it came in or not. All she wanted was to go back to bed and stay there for a week. Maybe she would. Or at least until word spread about what happened and Chessy and Joss hunted her down.
She should call them. Tell them herself. But she couldn’t make herself do it. There was nothing her friends could do anyway, other than give her a shoulder to cry on and tell her it was okay and that there were other fish in the sea.
Yeah, whatever.
She might not have a ton of experience in love and relationships, but even she knew that she’d never find another love like Jensen.
She walked past the things Jensen had carried back into her house and into the kitchen. She glanced at the bottle of wine on the counter and shrugged. Why not?
She poured herself a generous glass and started for the bedroom when she turned back and grabbed the bottle. It would save her a trip back later, and once she got into her bed, she wasn’t coming back out for anyone.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“YOU mind telling me what the hell this is about?” Dash bellowed.
Jensen looked up tiredly as Dash waved a piece of paper in front of his nose. Jensen was in no mood for guessing games. He hadn’t slept since Friday night. He had a hangover from hell, after doing something he never did. He’d gotten rip-roaring drunk, and he’d stayed that way the entire weekend.
Just more evidence that he was more like his father than he thought. Apparently the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.
“Christ, you look like shit,” Dash said in disgust.
“Fuck off,” Jensen growled.
“She quit,” Dash bit out as he put his hands on Jensen’s desk and leaned forward.