I was good enough. If he didn’t want me…well, I would be devastated. Even my newfound confidence couldn’t protect me from that. But as painful as that would be, I refused to let it define me.
That kind of confidence mumbo jumbo was easier said than done, though. I wanted him, loved him, and his rejection hit hard. I debated leaving him alone, letting him calm down, but it had been a week since the explosion, and we’d gotten no closer to getting over this. No closer to each other.
Down the stairs I went. I found Colin sitting on the couch.
I sat next to him. “Colin,” I said, in my best imitation-Colin voice. “I was hoping we could be together, you know, like a happy ever after, but this doesn’t bode well for my chances.”
It was, of course, a mimic of what he’d said to me that first night. It was also cheesy as hell, but I wanted to make him laugh, and also to show him that he’d been right. We belonged together, and he’d insisted on it until I finally believed. This was the reverse, and to my surprise it worked.
His lips cracked just slightly. Then they slowly, reluctantly widened into a smile.
I cheered inwardly. “Oh, you like that? I’ve got more where that came from.”
“Yeah?” he said, the grin—that sweet, sexy grin—still in place.
“No, that was a lie. Or a horrible attempt to talk dirty. I’m just happy I got you to smile.”
“Hey,” he said. “I’m not that bad.”
He ducked his head to hide his smile. I squirmed onto my belly so I could see it, like a puppy begging for attention.
“You are that bad,” I said up at him. “You’re a bad boy. That’s what I like about you.”
“Really?” he asked skeptically.
“No, not really.” My head rested on his lap. I turned to nuzzle my nose into his abs.
“So everything you’re saying right now—”
“Lies, all of it. I like your smile, though. That’s the truth.”
He leaned back, amused. His hand came up and stroked my hair. I closed my eyes and dreamed.
When I woke up, I was in the bed. In the dark and alone.
I sighed. That man was more obstinate than I gave him credit for. I didn’t want to nag him, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I got up and peeked in Bailey’s room, but she slept on, snoring softly. I went downstairs. He wasn’t in the living room, though the throw pillows were still squashed from where we’d sat on the sofa. I checked his study and the kitchen—nothing. Had I missed him upstairs? Maybe he’d decided to stand behind the curtains, seeing as a certain nosy girlfriend had disturbed his reflection last time. I should let him be, but a little bit of unease had wormed its way inside me.
Back upstairs I checked the bathroom, which was still open and dark. Then his closet. His clothes hung there, like always, but there was a gap. It could be a trick of the light. Or maybe it was laundry day.
It wasn’t.
The sadness hit me full force then. He’d left; I knew it.
I checked behind the curtains anyway. Then I went downstairs and stared at the oil blot where his truck should have been parked, to be sure.
What did it mean? Was I supposed to move out? Was I supposed to wait for him?
I’d thought we’d stay together, I really had. And barring that, I figured we’d break up and I’d move out. Never had I really imagined that he’d leave me alone…in his house.
Chapter Eleven
The day dawned drizzly. Bailey watched morning cartoons, happily oblivious to the fact that we’d soon be leaving. I sat on the couch drinking my coffee, memorizing whatever details I could see.
When I got the energy to get up, I’d have to start packing. Then we’d have to move into a new place of our own. The details on how we’d accomplish any of that were hazy, but that didn’t make them less real.
I supposed it made sense that Colin would break up this way. Quietly, the way he did everything else. And it also illustrated just how angry he was with me, that he couldn’t even give me the courtesy of a get out.
He just slipped away, leaving me to figure it out and get myself gone. I could stay, make a fuss, but that would just be embarrassing for all of us.
I would miss this place. I would miss Colin more, but for now I soaked in the somber peace of the house. The moldings at the bottom of the wall didn’t match the floorboards. They were a different kind of wood. I’d never gotten to ask Colin if he knew how that had happened There was a cobweb at the top of the slanted ceiling that I’d never been able to reach, not even standing on a stool and waving a broom. It had been here before me, and it would still be there after I left.
The weather hadn’t stayed warm enough to spend much time in the backyard. I would have liked a barbecue. I’d never been to one, but they sounded nice.
A knock sounded at the door.
If they were knocking, then they weren’t Colin, so I didn’t care.
The knocking grew more insistent. They’d wake up the neighborhood.