If You Must Know (Potomac Point #1)(9)

The fact that his sexy voice didn’t melt me proved how bad our chi was out of whack. “We were supposed to split the cost of living to protect the time we needed to pursue our other goals. Yet I’ve been footing all the bills, and now I’m in credit card debt while you’re doing nothing to help. I’ve got less time for my business, and you’re wasting all yours.”

“If money’s so tight, why’d you sign up for the retreat?” His entitled tone—his gall to suggest I shouldn’t spend my hard-earned money on myself—snapped something deep inside.

“Max, this isn’t working for me.”

“What isn’t?”

“This!” I gestured between us. “You and me. It’s probably best if you move out this weekend while I’m away.”

At least he put down the sandwich for a second. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“I am.” I was done. Done, done, done.

“Babe! Don’t overreact. I’ll pay you back for the sandwich.” He rested his elbows on his knees and looked up at me with those big blue eyes, his expression all soft and sad. For a second I almost caved. That adorable man I’d met two years, two months, and fifteen days ago shone through all the ick, and my heart hesitated.

“It’s not about the sandwich. It’s about having to pay for nearly everything we do because I have two jobs and you have none. It’s the way you lie around in your underwear and watch reruns instead of working on a story or poem, or at least doing some housework so I don’t have to. It’s that beard and the hair that’s so overgrown you look like Mo.”

His brows rose. “But we have fun, and the sex is still great.”

He had me there. The man knew his way around my body like nobody ever had before, and he was still a thing of beauty. If he’d cut his hair and shave, he could probably get work as a local model or something. “I’m turning thirty soon and I need a real partner, not a boy toy.”

I didn’t know a lot, but I did know that a relationship should make you grow. My dad had once mused that he’d had one old love who’d lit him up like a firecracker yet also left him burned out. Then my mom had come along—steady and assured—to dust him off and help him become his best self. Max and I hadn’t done that for each other in quite some time.

“Ouch. You can be harsh, you know.” He picked up his sandwich and took another bite, brow creased. “You really want me out? That’s it? You’re done and I get no say?”

I rose above a petty quip about it being a lot like how I’d had no say in the plans he’d changed today. It wouldn’t have been a fair comparison. We’d enjoyed a lengthy, intimate relationship and shared some memorable times together. Yet when I searched my heart for even the smallest ache, I couldn’t find it. The past few months had proven that together we would never evolve. “I’m sorry for being harsh. I think maybe this has been coming for a while, and my going away for the weekend gives us the perfect time for a clean break.”

He slouched against the cushions and locked his hands behind his head. “You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.”

I wouldn’t deny there might be some nights when I’d miss him, but I wouldn’t miss all the little things that bugged me, and I literally couldn’t afford to stay in this relationship. I didn’t need a man to define me, and everything about this conversation reinforced that giving Max the boot was step one in changing my life. “Maybe.”

“Who gets Mo?”

The air left my lungs. “Mo is mine.”

“Why’s he yours? We got him together.” He crossed his arms now, like he might actually fight me about this, of all things.

His sudden love for Mo only made me angrier. “I bought him. I’ve paid all his vet bills, walk him every day, and feed him. All you do is lie around with him on that couch. Mo is my dog.”

“He’ll miss me, though.” Max cast a soulful gaze Mo’s way.

That stopped me. In a way it would be like a divorce, except unlike with a kid, we couldn’t explain to Mo why Max wouldn’t be around anymore.

Mo was curled up on his little dog bed, watching us both. “Well, I guess you can visit him and take him for walks now and then if you want.”

That didn’t thrill me, but maybe it would be best for Mo. Truthfully, Max’s taking me up on the offer was about as likely as him getting a job anytime soon.

Max narrowed his eyes, but just as he had no resilience when it came to a career, he also had none for our relationship. Quitting was simply his thing. “Fine. I’ll be gone by Sunday afternoon.”

Without another glance, he stretched back out on the sofa, grabbed his second sandwich, and turned up the volume right as Frank “The Tank” tells Blue he’s his boy.

Well, that was that. I pushed off the table and went to the bedroom without another word.

I flopped backward onto my mattress and stared at the ceiling, waiting for tears or doubts or something to take over.

Nothing.

Was this a good sign, or had I simply used up all my tears on my dad? I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like evidence that I’d done the right thing. I could pack my bag for my trip. Or maybe I should try to catch up with my mom and sister now that I had the time.

I rolled onto my side with a groan, coming face-to-face with one of my favorite family photos. We’d taken our annual family summer trip to Hilton Head—the one real splurge my dad had made sure we enjoyed every year. We had a tradition of having lunch at a little open-air cabana bar and restaurant called Coco’s on the Beach.