With his fingertips, he gently turned her face back to his. “I did not use you, Claire. The only calculation behind touching you was to bring you pleasure. I spent time with you because for the first time in almost a year, I wanted to be with someone. I still want to be with you, but if you can’t, I understand. I’ve been where you are, and it’s a shitty kind of hell.”
He looked away with a defeated shrug. “In retrospect, I should have told you about the investigation, but honestly, it was a nonissue as far as you and I were concerned, and I expected to find out who it was and end the matter altogether. I didn’t want to muddy up our two weeks.”
She really didn’t know what to say. Her mind kept flipping from images of them together, to the horrible sinking feeling of hearing Michael yell about investigating her on the phone, to Will’s explanation just now. She was afraid if she said anything, it would open the floodgates. She needed to rip the rest of the scab off quickly. “Good-bye, Will.”
She barely heard his quiet response. “Good night.”
Determined not to stand and watch him leave, she walked away first, not looking back as the doorman held the brass and glass door and it closed with a whoosh behind her. It wasn’t until she had shut and locked her apartment door that she allowed herself to break down.
…
Will didn’t know how long he stood outside Claire’s building. It wasn’t until Jacob cleared his throat that he realized he was standing anywhere at all. He had been lost in his own selfish, inner temper tantrum, railing at life, fate, and himself.
Dammit. He wanted this woman. He wanted her more than he’d wanted anything ever, and not just physically. That was the real problem; he didn’t just want a two-week fuck-a-thon before she took off. He wanted her to stay.
He had hurt her. She’d trusted him and he’d betrayed her. Not intentionally, but intentions didn’t matter in a case like this. She hurt as much as if he’d done it on purpose, and he was completely helpless to do anything more about it. The ball was in her court now.
Jacob cleared his throat a bit louder this time. “Are you okay, sir?”
Will took a deep breath. Letting her go was the right thing to do. He’d stay away from her and let her heal. “I’m fine, thanks. I’m ready to go home.”
Jacob opened his the limo passenger door. “Not to the office, Mr. Anderson?”
Yeah, that was the original plan and where he’d intended to stay until Michael got back, but he was done now. She didn’t need to worry about him lurking when she came in to clear her office, and he didn’t need to be hiding, either. It was better for both if he stayed away for a day or so. Even if it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.
“No. I’m going home.”
Less than an hour later, Will wandered from room to room like a zombie. Hell, he pretty much was one. He ran his hand over the polished wood of the kitchen table and fought the urge to slam his fist into something.
Beth had wanted to live in the city and this house had been his compromise. It was a restored historic home in an upscale Long Island neighborhood that backed up to a small lake and gave him the nature and open space he sought with the proximity to Beth’s social scene she had demanded.
Like a sentimental fool, he bought this place before his first deployment and had imagined raising kids here. During that first tour of duty, he had it restored by an old college buddy who owned a remodeling company and then worked side by side with the contractor when he returned in order to complete the job before he was deployed the second time.
Beth had hated it. When he brought her here as a surprise, she made no effort to hide the fact that she would not live here. Her ugly words echoed in his head as if it had happened yesterday, instead of three years ago. For his remaining two and a half weeks in the country, she made him tour every overpriced, sleek, modern apartment in the city. Thank God he hadn’t put money down on one.
“Kung Fu Fighting” chimed from his phone. He pulled it from his back pocket and hit ignore. He didn’t need to talk to Chance right now. For a moment, his finger hovered over Claire’s contact in his recent calls list.
“Dammit!” he shouted. He needed to leave her alone. She’d trusted him. She’d been open and genuine with no artifice and he’d unwittingly hurt her.
He shoved his phone back into his pocket.
That was the key to the attraction, he realized. Beth was always worried about what people would think based on how she looked or what she had, so she cloaked herself in the trappings of success and status. Claire was never anyone but who she was. Genuine and giving.
And now she was gone.
He opened the cabinet above the refrigerator and pulled out the unopened bottle of scotch his now-ex future father-in-law had given him at the engagement party. Will hadn’t gotten shitfaced since he had returned to the States eight months ago and read in the paper that his fiancée had jilted him. After that, he had promised his brothers that he would never drink alone again. His promises used to mean something. But then, so did the words, “I love you,” until Beth had twisted them.
Will pulled the cap off the bottle. Eight months was long enough.