Page 20 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
“You asked me back then if I believed in fate. I didn’t until I met you. And I’ve spent nine years thinking I’d never see your face again. But fate brought you back into my life and I’m not going to mess it up again.”
I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat and speak. “You left me.”
“Please believe I did it for a good reason. And not a day has gone by when I haven’t regretted it.” He stroked the side of my trapped hand with his thumb.
“Why?” My eyes filled with tears the second the word passed my lips.
“I promise I’ll explain. Just not tonight,” he said.
My heart sank and I sagged into the heavily padded bench seat. This was his test and he had failed miserably. I didn’t want a deflection, a promise to explain later. He could disappear tomorrow for another nine years for all I knew.
“No,” I said. “No chances. You could have found me. You could have explained. You’ve lost your chance.”
His jaw clenched and the muscle on his forehead twitched. If he actually thought a couple of sweet sentences—which lacked an apology, I might add—would have me falling all over him again, he was sorely mistaken.
“I stayed away from you because I figured you would have moved on. But you’re not happy. I can see it plain as day. Give me a chance?”
I looked to the table. “No. I want a divorce.”
“You won’t get one.”
“What?” I gasped, my eyes snapping up to his.
“No divorce. I’ll contest it.”
“Do you really think challenging me and my legal team is a good idea, Nick? You’ll be wasting both our time and money.”
“I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Is this about my money? Is that what you want? Then fine. Name your price. Just let me go.”
“It’s not about your fucking money. It never was. But I’m not letting you go until I get my chance.”
“I’m in love with another man. Your chances are over.”
His body flinched so violently that it almost caused me physical pain. “A month. I want a month. And then I’ll let you go.”
I sat for a minute, weighing my options. I could dig in my heels and tell him to go to hell. Or I could let him think he had a chance. The only way I was getting my answers was with the latter. And I needed those answers desperately.
I needed to move on with my life.
“A month is too long and I’m not dragging this out. I’ll give you a week.”
“Fine. But I want five dates. You’re not going to blow me off for a week and then say I had my chance.”
“Okay,” I grumbled. “Five dates. One week.”
“Good. We start tomorrow.”
After exchanging phone numbers, I collected my purse and slid out of the booth, making our way to the restaurant’s exit.
But just before Nick could push the door open for me, a blond, skinny woman came rushing over and started fawning over him.
“Oh, Nick!” she said, grabbing his arm and petting his bicep. She leaned so far into his space that her surgically enhanced breasts rubbed up against his side. “I’ve been wondering when I’d see you again. Small world that we’d both be here for dinner.”
“Good-bye, Andrea,” Nick said, yanking his arm free.
“Don’t leave! Not yet! I came here with a friend but I was hoping you could give me a ride home,” she begged.
