Her rage seemed to break, and she took in a deep, steadying breath. Her eyes seemed shiny, and Asher realized with a sick feeling in his stomach that she was on the verge of tears. “I’ve only ever loved one person, Asher. And he never noticed I existed until the moment he took everything I had to offer and threw it away.”
“I’m sorry, Greer. I’m so fucking sorry.”
She angrily swiped at one cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “You hurt me. You really, really hurt me that night. You used me and never even stopped to realize it was me. You never saw me, just like everyone else.”
Each word was like a dagger in his chest. “I was a stupid, drunk fuck.”
“Yes, you were.”
His hands went to her shoulders. He wanted to pull her against him and hug her to his chest so she could cry it out, but he knew she’d hate that. “I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I know you’ve cared for me in the past—”
She pushed his hands away as if they were diseased. “That’s right. That’s in the past. What I had for you? It’s dead and gone. You killed it that night in the gardens. Now please, just leave me alone.”
With those words ringing in his ears, she headed up the stairs and left him behind her.
And for the second time in his life, Asher felt completely and utterly destroyed.
***
He’d fucked up, and he’d fucked up bad.
Asher left the Dutchman castle, sick at heart. He returned to his hotel, showered, headed off to the gym, and ran on the treadmill for two hours, trying to clear his head. When that didn’t work, he lifted weights and then swam in the pool. Nothing helped.
He kept seeing Greer’s devastated face in front of him, haunting him. What I had for you? It’s dead and gone. You killed it.
He’d had a good thing and he’d pissed it away. Greer had been a friend to him through thick and thin. She’d given him the money he needed to save his business in his darkest hour. And what had he done? Taken her virginity, gave her the worst sex possible, and knocked her up.
God, he was a shitty excuse for a human being.
And to make things worse? Now he saw her. Now he wanted her. Now he couldn’t get Greer out of his mind. He’d lost everything that night, and he hadn’t even known he’d had her. The sense of regret was even keener than when he’d lost Donna. When Donna had betrayed him, it felt as if the world he’d known was ending. Coupled with the near-destruction of his business, and he’d been in a tailspin. Looking back, he’d perhaps been more upset over the loss of his business than Donna herself, who’d grown distant months before.
But this? Losing Greer and finding out that she’d been the one who had his back all along? This was a gut punch. If he was less of a man, he’d return to the bottle and drown his sorrows.
That was what had lost her in the first place, though. This time? He was determined to fight.
Chapter 5
Greer glared at the florists as they delivered another set of flowers. So far, every hour that afternoon, she’d received a massive bouquet of flowers in a different color, each one with the same note.
I’m sorry. Forgive me? Can we talk?
She’d torn up each card and was tempted to make a bonfire of the flowers, but the triplets loved them. They’d started to wait by the door just to see what would be delivered. At least someone was getting enjoyment out of them. Greer was just irritated. Asher needed to get over it. He couldn’t fix everything with a quick apology. Some things just could not be fixed with words or gifts.
“‘I’m sorry’,” Bunni read from the card. “‘Forgive me? Can we talk?’” She looked up at Greer. “Is this from your boyfriend?”
“Not my boyfriend.”
“Is he single?”
Grr. Why did that piss her off so much? “You’re getting married to my father, remember?”
“Maybe,” Bunni emphasized as Tiffi came and sniffed the white camellias. “It’s a one in three chance, and if not, I need a backup plan.”
Greer gritted her teeth. “Let’s just focus on one man at a time, all right?”
“Okay, but this guy’s loaded, right?” She flicked the card. “Because these aren’t cheap flowers, and trust me, I know cheap flowers.”
She was not going to discuss Asher’s wallet with Bunni. She was absolutely not. Brimming with anger, she turned and strode to her father’s office. Damn it. He still wasn’t back from the shoot. She jerked her phone out and began to text him.
Greer: Vader, I have a problem with the wedding.
Vader: So soon? I’m busy. Have the best man handle it.
Greer: The best man is the problem. I can’t work with him.
She watched her phone, waiting for the three dots to pop up to show her that her father was sending a text back. To her surprise, it rang a moment later. Uh-oh. Fighting the vague feeling that she was a child in trouble with her father, she clicked Answer and put the phone to her ear. “Yes?”
“What is the problem with the best man?” Her father sounded cool, remote. Irritated.
Greer braced herself for his anger. “I can’t work with him.”
“And what is the reason behind this refusal?”
“Vader . . . he is the one that got me pregnant.” She felt her face grow hot as she confessed it, and pressed a hand to her cheeks. “He’s not a nice man. He uses people.”
“Do you think he’s going to get one of the brides pregnant?”
Her father’s question stymied her. “Um . . . I don’t think so?” She was pretty sure he hadn’t even planned on getting her pregnant.