“So, you’re going to be modest the rest of the day?” Scott asked.
“Nah. Just the next ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Right. What’s your favorite part of the job? Seeing the world on someone else’s dime?”
Rae knew Scott meant the question to be lighthearted. To draw her further into the conversation. If he’d asked anything else, or at any other time, it would have. Instead, the suggestion spoke to the doubt that had nagged since her plane touched down Friday afternoon. “Seeing new places all the time is nice. There are times I wish I had a permanent home.”
Zach glanced away, fiddling with the spoon in his glass. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you walked away from that option.”
And like that, the teasing mood evaporated. The underlying accusation in his words sliced deep, and she couldn’t ignore the way it made her feel exposed. “Really? Passive aggressive doesn’t seem like your style. Am I special?”
His cool, joyless smile slid back in. “It seems that way. I’d rather be direct about this, but that’s not happening. I’m sitting here waiting for an apology, or at least for you to acknowledge maybe, possibly, what you did could have been handled differently, and you’re acting like it never went down.”
He was putting their breakup on her? She clenched her jaw, and struggled to gather her thoughts.
“Are the two of you going to do this now?” Scott glared at Zach. “You can’t even go one meal?”
“No.” Rae pushed her chair back. “We’ll catch up later.”
Scott grabbed her wrist, tight enough to let her know he was serious, but not so much she couldn’t have broken free. “Fix this now. Ten years is too long, and I’m sick of it. Tell me you’re not.”
She swallowed her growl, and scooted to the table again. She kept her gaze trained on Zach, and her tone even and emotionless. “I don’t think it never happened, but I couldn’t have moved on if I lost myself in what you did. What you expected. I’m not the one who needs to apologize.”
“If you still think it was my fault, you definitely do need to. You overreacted.” He emphasized each word.
“Excuse me?” The question came out louder than she intended, but she let her indignation propel her words. “How is it possibly, in any universe, my fault?”
His narrowed eyes told her that hadn’t been the right answer. “How is it not?”
She stumbled through memories of the way they parted. The quiet irritation, the resignation as she walked away. “I’m not the one who was unreasonable. Didn’t you just sit here and tell me you were impressed with what I’ve done with my career? And you think I made the mistake?”
He sighed. “Of course. What was I thinking?”
The edge to his tone scraped through her, leaving her insides raw. “No. Tell me. What am I supposed to apologize for?”
“Forget it. We’re fine. Nothing happened.”
“Shit, Zach. Do you want an apology or not? If so, tell me what for.”
He leaned in, forearms on the table, and held her gaze. “The way you left.”
The memory that had hovered in the back of her head since she hit the canyon surged to the forefront. Both the good and bad bits of it. She grabbed the hurt and fury it brought, trying to use them to smother the thrum of her pulse caused by his nearness. This was anger; it wasn’t attraction. “You wanted me to give up everything, before I even got started with life, so I could stand by your side. I’m not the one at fault for that.”
“I never said that. You assumed.”
“Then maybe you should have clarified. Because I remember you spewing a lot of bullshit about how you pictured my future.” She didn’t like that the conversation turned volatile so quickly, but now, she wasn’t willing to back off. This had been bubbling in the back of her head for years. “Your life plan to have two kids right out of college. To let me use my degree as a backup. For me to stay at home while you finished graduate school.”
“I never said any of that.”
What was he playing at? “Never directly. It was just in every single plan you ever made when you talked about us.” Her own words dredged up more reminders. Those telling her they’d actually planned a future together at one point.
“You could have talked it through with me, instead of jumping to conclusions, and running halfway across the country to avoid me.” The emotion was gone from his face. “It was supposed to be our plan. Not mine.”
Why hadn’t she ever heard this before? “You never—”
“You didn’t give me a chance.” Some of the fire faded from his voice.
“Right.” She didn’t know what else to say. He’d just taken a decade-old grudge and made her question every memory of the situation. The way he bounced rapid-fire from accusation, to resignation left her head spinning.