Home > Love Me (Take a Chance #2)(37)

Love Me (Take a Chance #2)(37)
Author: Diane Alberts

She broke off. Just a few hours ago, he’d told her he was happy with her. Had made it seem like he was interested in staying with her in Vegas. Now he was pushing her away? Why?

What had changed so suddenly?

“No. But we need to talk about our future,” he said, and her stomach dropped out. “I don’t want to just continue dating you.”

Oh my God. They were breaking up.

“Why?” she asked, her voice cracking. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t cry. Damn it, she liked him too much not to cry, but she wouldn’t in front of him. She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging tight. Trying to hold her heartache in. “Never mind. Don’t answer. You’re not interested anymore. You want to leave. I get it. You got the contract signed and now you’re ready to return to your old life. Just take me home.”

“Wait. I started this wrong.” He took a deep breath and looked down at her with wide eyes. “Brianna, it’s not that I don’t want you. It’s that I—”

“It doesn’t matter what your reasons are. I don’t need to hear them.” She smoothed her clothing and lifted her chin. “It’s fine.”

“Jesus, will you let me f**king talk?” he snarled. The elevator door opened behind him, but he stayed where he was, glaring at her with something like desperation.

That was the last straw. He was going to get ugly with her after he’d dropped this on her out of nowhere? When she was trying to remain calm and collected? She clamped her lips together until they stilled their trembling.

“You don’t need to. I’ve been avoiding this conversation, but it’s about time it came up. We’re done.” She stepped closer—and shoved him back, out of the elevator. His face blanked with shock and…was that hurt? No. She wouldn’t think about that. He didn’t get to be hurt right now. While he stumbled, struggling to regain his balance, she stabbed the button for the lobby. “Good-bye, Thomas.”

“Brianna, wait—!”

The elevator door closed, almost on his reaching fingers.

Brianna stood there watching the numbers count down. Numb. Frozen. God, she’d been so stupid. So obliviously happy. She felt the knot welling in her throat, her eyes burning, but the hot, painful tension inside her wouldn’t break into tears. She wondered distantly if she was in shock.

That hadn’t just happened.

She’d thought he’d been perfect. Maybe that was the problem. He was too perfect. He said all the right things, did everything perfectly, was too handsome, too witty, too intelligent. Too good. She’d been lucky enough to find a good man once, who loved her until the day he died. She hadn’t thought love had been possible back then, but Michael had showed her it existed. But not with Thomas.

To hell with Thomas. To hell with men.

She had her kids and her memories of Michael. They were all she needed. And right now, she had every intention of flagging down a cab and going home to a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. She could spend her night in her pajamas, watching chick flicks, and sobbing into her tub of mint-chocolate calorie overload.

After she got rid of Jeremy and Erica.

Her vision blurred. She wiped at her eyes with a curse and pushed past the elevator doors before they fully had a chance to open, stalking out into the lobby. The front desk staff was probably staring at her, but hell. It was Vegas. They should be used to seeing crying women storm out of hotels.

A door banged open behind her, and Thomas’s voice rose in a ragged shout. “Brianna!”

She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see him lunge out of the stairwell. No. She couldn’t face him right now. Couldn’t face his excuses and whatever reasons he wanted to spill out just to make him feel better about himself. Just so he could get his closure. She’d been through it too many times, only before it had been just casual dates during the brief period she’d spent venturing into the dating pool.

It hadn’t been a man she’d thought she’d fallen in love with and could see herself with for the rest of her life.

His voice chased her, but she ignored him and walked faster, the impact of each sharp-clicking step quivering up through her heels. She pushed the lobby door open so hard it jingled and bounced off the outside wall and nearly ran across the parking lot. It was getting harder and harder to see. She needed to get home before she busted out bawling. And goddammit, if he didn’t stop calling her name—

“Brianna, if you’d just let me explain—”

“No!” She whirled and glared at him. “You said you don’t want to date me anymore. And I’m fine with that. Okay? I’m trying to make this easy for you. For both of us. So just leave me alone. I don’t want you near my kids—or me.” Inspiration struck. She knew how to make him feel better—while simultaneously leaving her alone. “I was going to call it off between us, anyway.”

“O-Oh.” His face crumpled. His outstretched hand dropped to his side; his other hand was hidden behind his back. For a moment her heart broke. How could he look at her like that? Like she’d torn his heart out, when he was the one who’d just decided to break things off with her, in the damned elevator of all places?

“I just can’t. I can’t.” She backed away a few steps, then turned and ran. She barely saw the crosswalk, only knew the light was red and the little man was telling her it was safe to walk to the southbound side of the street and flag down a cabbie who was going her way. Even better, there was a bus pulling up to the curb; public transit worked just as well. Anything with wheels that pointed somewhere toward home. She ran faster. She probably looked stupid, bolting in front of traffic in heels with tears running down her cheeks.

As long as it got her away from him, she didn’t care.

The light changed just as she reached the sidewalk and nearly fell against the signpost when one of her three-inch heels twisted underneath her and nearly pitched her to the sidewalk. The bus was easing forward. She struggled upright and ran for it.

“Wait!”

The bus slowed, lights flashing. The door opened, and she stumbled up the steps, fumbling in her purse for change. Fuck. Fuck, she could still hear him, calling her name, begging her to wait.

“Go,” she told the driver. “Now!”

The man stared at her strangely. She must look a fright, sweaty and red-faced with her eyes brimming with tears and her hair flying everywhere. She shoved a dollar bill into the slot with shaking fingers. The doors started to squeak closed, and the bus rolled forward.

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