The chatter of the people in the restaurant sound in the background as she answers. “I sure did. He stayed here last night.”
My heart drops as I receive my answer. Guess it was silly of me to worry about his safety when he’s clearly able to take care of himself. This information really tells me where we stand.
I grip the phone tighter in my hand and lift my chin. “Can you please deliver a message to him for me?”
“Sure, honey.”
“Tell him I got his message loud and clear and I won’t bother him ever again.”
“I swear, that boy . . .” Nettie tsks, and I’m about to tell her good-bye when she says, “Don’t give up on him, Anna, even if you want to.”
I sigh, understanding what she’s asking, but I won’t allow my heart to keep going through this. “I can’t do that, Nettie. Not anymore.” I lip quivers and I can feel the tears coming on, and I don’t want to cry on the phone to her. “I’ve got to go.”
“No, Anna. Wait—”
I don’t give her time to finish her sentence before I end the call and lean back against the wall, shutting my eyes to hold in the tears.
This is the last sign I need to give up on Xavier. You don’t treat someone you love like this. I need to find the strength down deep to move on with my life.
Somehow, I manage to make it through dinner without completely breaking down. Jorge knew there was something was bothering me, but in typical Jorge fashion, he didn’t pry into my business for fear of being rude.
We don’t say much on the way back to the hotel, so when the car comes to a stop in front of the door, I fully prepare to end our evening, but Jorge opts to have the attendant park his car.
I give him a curious look as he opens my door. “What are you doing?”
He extends his hand to me and helps me out. “You look like you need a friend.”
That’s so like him, always giving. It’s in his nature. “It’s not necessary. I’ll be okay.”
He gives me a pointed look. “Anna, I know you. You’re hurting and even though we are no longer together, I still consider you one of my best friends. Talk to me if it will make you feel better.”
I bite my lower lip, unwilling to part with what’s truly bothering me. I don’t want my parents to find out I’m pregnant from someone other than me. Talking things out with Jorge is dangerous. I need to keep this to myself a bit longer, no matter how badly I want some advice on what to do in this situation.
My lips pull back into a tight line. “I’m sorry, Jorge. I can’t tell you about this.”
He swallows while his eyes search my face. “I’ve really lost you, haven’t I?”
I nod as a tear rolls down my cheek. Loving Jorge would be so simple—a natural fit in the life I used to lead—but I’m a different person now, and I can no longer settle for lukewarm love. I want full-on passion or nothing at all.
He swipes away my tear with his thumb. “It’s okay, Anna. I always knew I would someday. You have more zest for life than anyone I’ve ever known, and I’m not the right guy for you to find adventure with, but I’ll always be your friend.”
His sweet words cause a sob to rip out of my throat, and I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him as I cry. It’s then I finally realize how much I’ve changed. No matter what happens from this point on, I can no longer go back to the perfect church girl Father always groomed me to be—not with a baby on the way. I have to figure out how to stand in this world on my own two feet.
Chapter 24
Xavier
My cell chimes with a new text, and I motion to Corey to continue practicing the drills I gave him while I check my phone.
I swipe the screen and Deena’s name pops up with an attachment symbol next to it. I roll my eyes and click on the button.
This bitch doesn’t fucking give up.
I probably shouldn’t even look at whatever she’s sent because it’s most likely going to piss me off.
Curiosity wins out, and I open the attachment. It’s a photo, and when it loads, my heart nearly stops dead in my chest.
There, plain as day, is Anna hugging another man, and it’s not just a polite hug. She’s clinging to him while her face is buried into his chest. I shake my head as if to clear my vision and then lean in for a closer look.
Fuck.
She’s in a nice dress and has heels on, and he’s in a suit. Were they on a fucking date?
I curl my fingers around the phone and fight the urge to chuck it across the room and shatter it into a million pieces.
It’s one thing to believe in the idea of letting her go, but it’s another when the face I’m no longer the man in her life is shoved in my face.
My nostrils flare as rage overtakes me.
I turn toward an empty punching bag and ram a hard right hook into it and then roar, “Goddamn it!”
I’ve fucked up.
I take back every thought I’ve ever had about letting her go because I can’t do it. She’s mine. I will do whatever it takes to get her back.