“So how do you really feel?”
That was the trick of the coin toss. The answer always revealed your true feelings. If Bianca made me feel relieved, I would have known Bianca was the right answer. If Bianca had caused disappointment, then I would have known Killian was the right answer.
“Vera?” Vann pushed. “What’s it going to be?”
“Vera.”
My answer died on my tongue when that familiar, grating voice called my name through the window. Vann and I both turned to look at the same time.
Derrek stood in the window looking like he did the first time he’d visited. Only this time it wasn’t dark yet. Dusky evening swirled in the sky turning clouds to rosy pink and grayish purple. His features were clearer in the natural light, not exaggerated like before under the glare of Foodie’s spotlights, not twisted from my personal fear or agony.
I was in no danger of going back to Derrek anymore. There was nothing that could tempt me from my new life. Even if things with Killian went badly, they wouldn’t go violently.
They wouldn’t leave me a shell of myself, broken, bruised, beaten.
And I would still be better off than when I was with Derrek. I’d tasted freedom and finally found healthy. I wasn’t willing to go back.
I’d settled back in my body. My bones were mine again. My thoughts belonged only to me. My future was mine alone to decide.
It was the best feeling in the entire world. Better than head chef offers and boyfriends that made me smile like a lunatic. Better than this career I loved so very much or the dreams I was just beginning to chase again.
Knowing myself… being myself was better than anything else.
It was the very best thing.
But before I could say any of that out loud, Vann stepped to the window and clenched his fists, hammering them on the ledge. “Are you fucking kidding me, man? It was the wrong move to show up here.”
“I just want to talk to her, Vann. Relax.”
Vann’s spine turned to granite. He jabbed a finger in Derrek’s direction. “Don’t tell me to relax, asshole. I will annihilate you.”
I hoped Derrek believed Vann because I did.
Derrek held up his hands. “I’m not trying to start trouble. I would just like to talk to my girlfriend.”
“Ex.”
Both men turned to me. “What?” Derrek asked.
“Ex-girlfriend. I’m your ex-girlfriend.”
He shrugged. “That’s what I meant.”
That wasn’t what he meant. He’d already started his manipulation game. I didn’t even think he noticed. It was such a part of who he was that he couldn’t stop it.
When I didn’t make a move or open the conversation further, he pushed forward with his agenda. “Will you talk to me, Vera? I drove all the way here. I closed my kitchen for tonight. For you. I just want the chance to talk. That’s all.”
I stared at him, taking in his worth with a glance. This man that I had once been so enamored with, that had wowed me with his talent, smooth compliments and good looks was so lacking now. So… unimpressive.
A flush of embarrassment washed over me. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen for him… gotten sucked into something so toxic with him.
I surprised myself by saying, “Yes.”
Vann swung to face me, his eyes bugging out of his head. “Vera, you can’t be serious.”
“We can talk,” I told Derrek. “But that’s it.”
Derrek glanced at Vann. “Can we go somewhere?”
I pointed to the side of the truck. “We can go right there. I’m not closing my kitchen for you. Ever.”
A sour look of disappointment crossed his face, but he quickly hid it behind penitent remorse. “Fine.”
He stepped back, moving to the place where my customers usually stood around eating their orders. Orders I made for them. Out of my truck. From the safety and success of my new life.
“Are you sure?” Vann asked in a low voice as I moved to walk past him.
I held his gaze. “If he touches me at all, you have my permission to beat him to a bloody pulp.”
Vann grinned at me. “You’re not going out there to make up with him?”
“I’m going out there to tell him to leave me alone and never, ever come back.”
My brother pressed his hands to the sides of my head, squeezing like only big brothers did and kissed my forehead. “Proud of you, Vere.”
I ducked under his arm. “Even if it’s just like a finger, Vann, beat his ass.”
Vann’s chuckle followed me out the door to where Derrek waited for me. I approached with wariness, but determination too. This needed to happen. He wasn’t going to leave me alone until he realized I was no longer scared of him. Till he understood that we were never, ever going to happen again.
Derrek’s sneer reminded me of so many bad nights with him. And yet this time it couldn’t touch me. Even if it still turned my stomach. “Vann’s playing bodyguard now?”
“Well, I need one when you’re around. So, yeah. I guess he is.”
“Vera,” he groaned. “You’re not serious.”
“Derrek, I realize that you are living in some delusional alternate reality where you’ve convinced yourself that you didn’t do anything wrong and that I’m at fault for all that happened between us. But the truth is, you’re a horrible person. The way you treated me is completely unacceptable. I am lucky to have gotten away from you, and that’s where I’m going to stay.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, probably restraining them from what he wanted to do. “What happened to you?” He leaned forward, getting in my face. “Did you join some kind of cult I don’t know about? You’re a completely different person.”
I looked at the sky, hoping to find patience, but then my glare returned to Derrek’s face because even if I’d found myself, I still knew exactly who he was and I didn’t trust the slimy bastard. “The problem is not that I’m a different person, but that you’re the same person. I can’t be with you, Derrek. Frankly, I don’t want to be with you. Burn my things or give them to charity or whatever, but we are so over.”
“Therapy,” he threw out. “Is that what you want? Couple’s therapy? Because, Vera, I can do that. You’re making me out to be some kind of monster, but you’re not perfect either. It’s not fair to pin this all on me.”
I swallowed back the need to defend myself. It wasn’t easy. I wanted to scream at this man, this idiot that couldn’t see his own faults and wanted to make this about our relationship problems instead of the real issues.
But I couldn’t get sucked into his manipulation game. If I engaged his rhetoric, then he got to dictate the direction of the conversation.
And he was right. I wasn’t perfect. I might be justified. I might be right. I might have had every reason to flee. But I wasn’t perfect.
“Derrek, I don’t want to go to couple’s therapy. I want you to acknowledge that it’s over between us.”