Ignite (Cloverleigh Farms #6)(78)

“I gotta go.” I shouldered past him and headed for the door.





Twenty-Two





Winnie





Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

Out on the porch, I took a few deep breaths of the crisp October air, trying to keep the sobs from escaping.

I felt like I’d just gotten the wind knocked out of me.

How had this happened? I’d been so careful this time! I’d been so sure I wouldn’t wind up hurt as long as I kept my expectations realistic and my feelings in check.

But you didn’t do that, did you?

A spiteful voice in my head spoke up.

It doesn’t matter what you said you were going to do—it’s what you went ahead and did that matters. And you went ahead and fell for this unavailable guy who told you right from the start that he wasn’t interested in you like that.

Yes, he was a jerk to say those things. But you’re a fool. And only one of you will cry yourself to sleep tonight.

One tear slipped down my cheek, followed by another. Behind me, the door opened, and I swiped at my cheeks, glad for the dark.

“Ready to go?” I asked, proud of how calm my voice sounded.

“Yeah.”

We walked to the car, and I waited stiffly while he unlocked the passenger door. When I got in, I was careful not to brush against him, and I pulled the door shut myself.

Worried he was going to apologize or offer an explanation right there at the curb, I was relieved when he started the car and put it in drive. I really didn’t want to hear him say he was sorry. Not this time.

The ride home was tense and silent. I gripped the edge of my seat as if it was a life raft in choppy waters. When he pulled into his garage, I was quick to unbuckle my seatbelt.

“Winnie, wait.” He reached over and circled my wrist. “Don’t go yet.”

I froze, one hand on the door handle.

“I need to apologize.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Yes, it is. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I think you didn’t mean for me to hear it.”

He exhaled. “That’s true, but what I said came out wrong. It’s not just sex between us. I was worked up about things my sister was saying, and I lost my temper.”

“It’s fine. I’m going now.”

But he held on to my wrist. “It’s not fine, Winnie. I said something shitty, and you should call me out on it.”

“Is that what you want?” Snatching my hand from his grip, I shifted to face him. “For me to get so mad I never want to see you again? For me to say shitty things right back to you so I can hurt your feelings the way you hurt mine?”

His jaw was clenched hard. “Yes.”

“Well, that’s not how I work. I don’t treat people I care about that way.”

Exhaling, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate that I hurt you.”

“You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. I’ll live.”

He dropped his hand and looked at me. “Winnie.” His voice cracked.

“I’m just going to be honest, Dex.” I couldn’t stop the tears, so I just let them come. “I know this is not what we planned. I tried really hard not to fall for you. I didn’t want to. But I did.”

“Don’t say it,” he begged.

“I have to. Maybe I’m a fool, but I’m not a coward. I love you. And I don’t want this to end.”

“But you’re leaving,” he blurted. “And I can’t ask you to stay.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Swallowed. “Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not what we said this would be. And you have to follow your dream.”

“But things change,” I wept. “And I have a lot of dreams. One of them is finding someone to share my life with. And if you’re willing to try, maybe we could make it work between us. Maybe I don’t have to leave.”

He shook his head. “It’s better this way, Winnie. You go your way, I go mine.”

“But not if we have feelings for each other! Doesn’t that count for something?” Taking a deep, shaky breath, I forced myself to be brave. “Do you have feelings for me?”

He stared straight ahead. His jaw ticked.

“I know what we used to say in the beginning. But I haven’t heard you say it in a while. Is it still true?”

It seemed like an eternity passed before he answered. And when he spoke, his voice sounded different.

“It’s still true,” he said woodenly. He looked at me, his expression completely blank. “I don’t love you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, the tears hot on my cheeks. “Goodbye, Dex.” Choking back a sob, I got out of the car, hurried from the garage, and let myself into my front door.

As soon as it was closed, I burst into tears, bawling into my hands, my body shuddering with hurt and humiliation. I wept until my eyes ran dry, and then I went upstairs, scrubbed off the remains of my makeup, and got into bed.

It wasn’t long before sadness filled the well again, and I ended up crying myself to sleep, just as I predicted.