Page 17 of When There Was You
“He’ll understand,” Kit says.
Mick doesn’t answerhis phone when I call him later that night. Not that I blame him. Much. Still on shaky ground, I opt to give him space and try again tomorrow.
The next day comes, and his phone remains unanswered. Is he punishing me? I hardly remember a word I said now. I’m numb and doing my best not to think about any of it. But as the day progresses, my anxiety escalates, panicky flutterswhispering,You’re losing him too. And I can’t. He’s my fucking world. As much as I need to buck up and keep studying, I need to make things right with Mick more.
The afternoon light wanes. Time to stop waffling. Speeding to Half Moon Bay, I chain smoke while death-gripping the steering wheel.
I’m relieved when I spot his blue Mustang in the driveway, although my heart palpitations ramp up as I step from the car.
Mick stares at me through the big glass windows of the cottage. He’s too far away for me to decipher his expression, but winged things flap around my insides like coked-up bees.
When he makes no move my direction, I push open the door. Mick leans against the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest, gray eyes dark and stormy. His stance fills me with foreboding.
I drop my purse on the couch and approach, meeting his piercing gaze. “Hey,” I whisper.
He nods, the movement curt.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “The way I acted…was really shitty.”
He nods again.
Damn it. “Please, can we talk this through?”
“I don’t know. Can we? I’m not sure what there is to say.”
I’m on unsteady ground. “I don’t understand. I was upset, okay?”
He regards me cooly, eyes like steel. “Here’s the thing, Jacqui. I’ve been about as patient as a man can be—more than a man shouldhaveto be.”
“I—”
“Let me finish. You asked a while ago if I had regrets about this whole party of three. I was honest. Yes and no. And I’ve done my damnedest to make this work, to love you, and fucking share you when I really just want you all to my fucking self.”
Sweat trickles down my back as mypulse rapid fires.
“And then this shit goes down with Remy. Surprise, surprise…except it’s not. Remy’s a fuckup, has been his entire, rich playboy-entitled life. And a part of me wasn’t sorry in the slightest. What happened to him was a hundred percent his fault, on the heels of us trying to help him see reality for the past, what…year? And the bonus? Having you all to myself. It’s beenafucking dream.”
Tears prick the back of my eyelids and my throat stings with his admission.
“And then you get angry withmeabout Remy’s shit? And shed a tear over Remyafter all this? How do you think that makes me feel? Am I your consolation prize? Second choice?”
“No—”
“Does all this,” he demands, gesturing between us, “mean nothing to you? Think about it for five fucking minutes. See my perspective. Not yours. Not Remy’s.Mine.” His hand bangs against his chest with his last word.
My body sags under an avalanche of guilt. Have I made him think he’s second best?
It hits me then. How he’s always believed he’s not good enough, that he’ll never be able to give me what I “deserve,” and worse—that he deserves nothing for himself, not even happiness.
I take a tentative step toward him. “Mick.” My voice cracks as I swipe away the tears cascading down my cheeks. “I love you more than anyone…ever…in my entire life.”
His arms don’t loosen across his chest.
I inch forward. “You are my world,” I continue, my voice breaking again. “My universe. You give me life, bring light to my dark corners, fill me with purpose and joy. You’re imprinted on my soul, own my heart, and you are the most beautiful man I’ve been lucky to know, inside and out.”
Mick’s eyes shine with a glossy layer, his throat working as he swallows.
“My life means nothing without you in it.” I’m close now.More tears spill from my eyes. I pause, trying to speak past the thick emotion. “I have treasured every single second with you from the first moment. I never meant to make you think you’re less than anyone or anything. Mick…you are my everything.”
