Chirp(98)

“I’ve had something on my mind for days.”

She pulled her brows together. An odd way to start a proposal, but this was a big step.

“We’ve been together a long time.” Now it was his turn to take a deep breath. He leaned forward. “I’ve been offered a position in New York. I’m taking it.”

Inside her head, the world went silent. No more chatter. No more music. Just her brain trying to process his words. She searched his face for the slightest hint of love, and there was none. “I’m not sure what you’re saying. Are you asking me to move with you? Because I can’t leave Dad right now. I mean, he’s not finished with chemo, and when he is there’s no guarantee he’ll go into remission.”

“I know.”

She hesitated. Waited for him to talk her into it or suggest joining him at a later date, but he didn’t. She dropped her hands into her lap, laced her fingers so tightly they tingled. “Well, I must be the dumbest smart girl in the world. I expected a proposal. But you’re breaking up with me.”

“I don’t see a choice. You can’t move, and long distance relationships never work.”

Her throat closed off the same way it had the day her dad had told her he was moving out. “What was this all about?” She waved her hand around the room. “You assume breaking up in my favorite restaurant would make everything okay? I’d say, ‘Oh, great, Brad. Good for you. Go to New York, and have a wonderful life—without me.’” There was bound to be a good argument to offer, but for the life of her she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She scooted her chair away from the table and stood.

He rose from his seat. “Wait. Please, sit down. This was a hard decision.”

“Oh really? Which part? Taking the job or dumping me?”

“Both.”

Collapsing back into the chair, she tried to keep calm, but her emotional investment pounded in her head. It was over without a payoff. No proposal. No marriage. No family. Just a penny-pinching, good-looking, ladder-climbing fool. No, she’d have to claim the fool part, because the one thing she knew in life was that men leave. Andrew left. Kevin left. Dad left. Why’d she think Brad would be different? But there it was, that tiny glimmer of hope. He could still come through and at least try to convince her to go. But he didn’t. He stood there as if waiting for her to make the next move. “I can’t believe this. I thought you loved me.”

He sat again. “I did—I mean, I do.”

From the look on his face, it’d been over for months. Maybe he had never loved her. Tears burned her eyes, but she wouldn’t allow him to see her fall apart in public. Probably why he’d brought her here. Well, if he thought he could rip her heart out with no consequences, he was mistaken. “I guess it’s settled. You’re starting over and leaving me behind.”

His eyes wandered to his drink, the flowers, over her shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t go, and that’s why I never brought it up. But as much as I care for you, I can’t pass up this deal.” His attention landed back on her again, and he smiled. “There is a silver lining. My condo will be available. This is a perfect opportunity for you to get out of that dreadful part of town. I’ll give you a great price.”

The announcement had her blinking and wondering why she didn’t slap him. “Are you kidding me? You want me to buy your condo?” Fire burned in the pit of her stomach like she’d swallowed a hot coal. The nerve of him. Then she got control. “That isn’t going to happen, but thanks for the generous offer. Now I’m ready to order dessert. You said money was no object, right?”

“Yes. Get your heart’s desire. I’m glad you’re being reasonable. Didn’t much think you’d take me up on the condo offer, but if you change your mind, I’m not putting it on the market for a couple of weeks.” He motioned for the waiter.

Pushing aside her disappointment, she decided payback would taste sweeter than anything she ordered. She beamed up at the server. “I want a slice of Charlotte à la Framboise, two dozen madeleines, twelve profiteroles, three chocolate crepes, and six pistachio éclairs.” She closed the menu and stood. “Oh, I almost forgot. Also a Floating Island and three bottles of Dom Perignon Rose 2002. All to go, please.”

Brad’s mouth fell open. “Are you insane? Those bottles cost over four hundred dollars each!”

She smiled down at him. “Yes. I am insane for wasting three years of my life and believing you loved me. I’ll take a taxi home.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond, just slung her purse over her shoulder and hurried to the ladies’ room.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she adjusted her skirt, then smoothed her hair. How could she have been so blind? It sounded like a song lyric, but it was a valid question. Sure, sex hadn’t been so great lately, but all couples went through dry spells. Work stress and schedules took their toll. Or her first idea was right. He’d never loved her.

Shaking her head to clear it, she decided the reason didn’t matter. Only the result. Bottom line: he didn’t want her. A tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away. She had to pick up her order before Brad refused payment. Squaring her shoulders, she rushed to the counter, got the goods, and made her getaway.

As the cab pulled from the curb, Quinn opened one of the to-go boxes, removed a madeleine, and shoved it into her mouth. The cake felt like sawdust against her tongue. She stared out the window at passing cars, licked her lips, and tasted salty tears. Damn him. She sniffed, wiped them away with the sleeve of her jacket, and reminded herself crying was useless. It was over, and that was that.