Sweet Cheeks(67)

“Why’d you come anyway, Saylor? Why’d you show up? To rub my face in the fact that you’re dating the big Hollywood star?”

And if I didn’t know that bugged him, the disdain in his voice says it all. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that, Mitch? Why’d you invite me? Because I know you say it was Sarah who did, but a little part deep down within you wanted me to show up here to see exactly what I could have had. So you could rub my nose in it?”

I don’t answer his question at all, but I don’t care because it feels good to say some of what I think out loud. Words I’ve wanted to ask since I opened the envelope with the invitation.

He doesn’t answer my question, either. And I’m okay with that and with the awkward silence that settles around us as we both figure our next step in dismantling a fence that will never stand again.

“It’s always been him, hasn’t it?” Yes. It has. I don’t utter the words, just keep my eyes fixated on my fingers running up and down the stem of my wine glass when he continues speaking. “He’s been the one you wanted even after he hurt you and walked away. I was the one who picked up the pieces after your parents died. Not him. But what? The whole time we were together, you were waiting for him, weren’t you? Wanting him. Thinking I could take his place. And then obviously by the looks of the two of you, he came back and the wait was over. Dump me. Pick him. He wins . . .”

I don’t think I ever looked at our relationship that way, or thought of Hayes in that regard. My subconscious was more consumed by the sting of hurt and weight of resentment Hayes left behind. And besides, by the time Mitch came into the picture it had been almost four years since he’d left. And yet hearing Mitch’s words makes me realize that he just might be right when I never thought in a million years I was doing any of those things.

“It was the ghost of Hayes that ruined our relationship, Saylor. Just like Sarah wants me to confront you so that your ghost doesn’t ruin my marriage. I thought what she was saying was just bullshit. Nervous bride crap. And yet, seeing you here with him . . . I know she’s right.”

Did he just admit that he still loves me?

Shit. Shit. Double shit.

I blow out an audible breath. His disdainful but honest words hit a little too close to home. I nod softly. Let him know I’ve heard him. I refuse to agree with him audibly because then I feel like he’ll have control of this situation between us that feels so out of control as it is.

“What do you need from me to clear the ghosts, Mitch?” I try to sound reasonable. Attempt to give him what he needs so he can live happily ever after with Sarah and stay one hundred percent out of my life from here on out.

He clears his throat then looks me directly in the eyes. “I need to know if we ever had a chance or if we were doomed from the start because you were just waiting for Hayes to come back.”

“Does it matter?” I shrug, hating the look in his eyes. The one that makes me wonder how deep his feelings still run for me when they should be one hundred percent consumed by the woman he just gave more than his last name to. And knowing that even when I tell him the truth, he’s not going to believe it.

“Yes.”

“It was never about Hayes, Mitch. I left because while I loved you, I don’t think I could have continued loving you with the bitter resentment I continually felt toward you. You loved me but only the me you wanted me to be: sophisticated, non-working, non-baking, non-driven unless it was only to make you happy. You can’t start a marriage loving only the end result of who you hope to turn your spouse into. You start a marriage by loving that person completely for who they are and with the knowledge you’re going to grow and shift and change with each other. You never thought of me that way. You and your mom wanted me to be someone other than who I am to fit you and your circle’s standards. It became more and more clear the closer we came to getting married. The subtle comments about how my job wasn’t suitable for the Layton name. The hints left on hangers in my closet in the tune of thousands of dollars worth of clothes to show me how you wanted me to dress and look. The plans you fabricated, and the subsequent tantrums you pitched when you knew I had a big order to fill, so I’d feel like I was letting you down. So no, Mitch, my leaving you had nothing to do with Hayes and rather everything to do with me. My wants out of life, and everything that I am. Yes, I loved you, Mitch, at one time. But I think that love turned into bitterness and resentment.”

His eyes are wide, body so tense that I can already see he disagrees with me. Know that he’s ready to argue with me and I’m just done. With him and with this wedding. “Loved? As in past tense?”

I stare at him and realize he’s not hearing me. He doesn’t actually want to hear me. I shouldn’t be surprised because it was the same when we were together.

And I know what I need to do. Know that it’s not the truth but I need to be the bad guy here. Hurt him now to ensure Sarah has the best shot in a marriage with this emotionally stunted man who she loves.

“Yes. Loved. And I fell out of love with you a long time ago, Mitch.” I shake my head, twist my lips, and my fingers twirl around a lock of hair. I give the best acting job I can give. Try to use the upset I feel over purposely lying to him to drive the emotion in my next words. “I lied. I’m sorry. Hayes came back a few months before our wedding. I accidentally ran into him and what I felt for him, Mitch, was so very different, so much more powerful, than what I’d felt for you. And so . . . I tried to get over it. Over him. Attempted to push him from my mind and focus on you and our wedding but I couldn’t. The things you hated about me, he loved. The things you were trying to change in me, he praised. And I realized that even if Hayes and I never worked out, I couldn’t marry someone who didn’t appreciate those things about me.”