“Please, Emma, you need to listen to me,” Brett said. He reached across the table and put a hand on my arm. “I am so sorry. More sorry than you can possibly imagine. I love you, Emma. I do. I always have. I just got scared, that’s all.”
I considered his words. It was the same explanation Jeannie had given me, and in a way, it made sense. “But if you were scared,” I said slowly, “why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you ask to postpone the wedding or something? Why did you dump me and throw me out of our house?”
Brett looked miserable. “Geez, Emma, I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve been through this a thousand times in my head. There’s just no excuse. All I can say is that I’ve regretted it every day since. I didn’t think I was ready to get married yet, but I am, Emma. I am. Losing you made me realize that.”
I could feel the ice beginning to melt on the outside of my heart. I couldn’t forgive him—how could I?—but maybe I could find a way to accept his apology and move on. After all, this was my life now, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like Gabe Francoeur was going to come walking through the door to sweep me off my feet. I was stuck living in my condescending sister’s guest room, estranged from every friend I’d made in this city. That was no way to live.
Our food arrived, and we ate in silence for a few minutes. I could feel Brett watching me between bites.
“Why Amanda?” I asked softly after a while.
Brett swallowed hard but didn’t look surprised. He had to have known the question was coming.
“I can’t tell you how much I regret that,” he said carefully, his voice soft. He looked straight into my eyes. “There is no excuse, Emma. I freaked out, and she was right there, and I fell into something I shouldn’t have. It was all my fault, and it was a huge, huge mistake.”
“It wasn’t all your fault,” I mumbled, thinking that it takes two to tango, as the saying goes.
“Well, I should have known better,” Brett said. “Especially with one of your best friends. I’m so ashamed.”
I took another sip of wine and considered his words. Despite the fact that I’d only taken three bites of my steak, I wasn’t hungry anymore.
“I’d like to go now,” I said.
Brett looked up in surprise. “But we’re not done eating,” he said.
“I know,” I said. “I just don’t want to be here anymore.”
He studied my face, then nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I know this is hard for you. I appreciate you even giving me the opportunity to explain myself.”
I nodded. I was surprised by how genuine he seemed, and the hatred and anger I’d been clinging to for the past two months were beginning to seem pointless. Yes, he’d hurt me more deeply than I ever would have imagined. But he seemed genuinely sorry and repentant. And it wasn’t like I’d never made a mistake. If I didn’t at least consider his explanation and his apology, wasn’t I being just as blind as Gabe?
Thinking of the French reporter—and his refusal to take my calls after the whole incident with Guillaume—made me feel suddenly ill. I excused myself and made it to the restaurant bathroom just in time to throw up what little I had eaten.
Chapter Twenty
That week, I went out twice more with a repentant Brett, and he even stopped by Frenchy’s one day at lunch to bring me white lilies, my favorite. There was no doubt that he was doing everything he could to win me back. I just hadn’t made up my mind yet.
After all, on the one hand I’d been so sure little more than two months ago that he was The One, I’d been gleefully planning a wedding with him. Had he not freaked out on me, I probably never would have considered leaving him. Our wedding would be mere weeks away.
On the other hand, his leaving me had forced me to look at all the things that were wrong with our relationship. He was, at times, condescending and overbearing. He often didn’t listen to me and sometimes treated me like a child. But all in all, our relationship hadn’t been bad. I knew he loved me—or at least he had, for a time. He seemed to be genuine in his proclamations of love for me now.
Maybe he had just made a mistake. Maybe he did deserve another chance.
“Are you seriously considering getting back together with him?” Poppy demanded the day after I’d been out with Brett for the third time. I had finally called to sheepishly tell her, knowing that she wouldn’t react well to the news.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “Maybe he deserves another chance.”
“Emma,” she said slowly. “Perhaps you don’t remember. He cheated on you. With your best friend.”
“No,” I protested. “He didn’t exactly cheat. He didn’t get together with her until after we broke up. Besides, maybe he just made a mistake. You should see how hard he’s trying.”
Poppy made a snorting sound.
“Besides,” I added, “you’ve forgiven Darren, haven’t you?”