Unfinished Ex (Calloway Brothers, #2)(15)



Part of me expects Nicky to call out to me and tell me how wrong she was to leave. Or maybe run into my arms and declare her undying love. Perhaps even beg me for forgiveness. Or at the very least, invite me in so we can settle this and figure out how to live in the same town for the next few months without killing each other. She doesn’t do any of that. She doesn’t even look back at me. It’s like she couldn’t give a shit. She just walks away. Because I guess that’s what she does best.





Chapter Six



Nicky




I scan the stadium for Jaxon. He’s sitting with the other students graduating from the college of education, while I’m with the ones from the college of science. He looked so handsome this morning, wearing a crisp dress shirt and tie that matches his aquamarine eyes. As the biggest sports fan I know, he’s totally psyched to be graduating in Yankee Stadium, where NYU is holding our commencement this year.

He’s hard to pick out. And he didn’t decorate his cap like I did. Mine says “Off to chase my dream” with a graphic of a tornado I made out of glue and glitter. But at six foot two, Jaxon stands taller than most graduates, and I eventually find him. We lock eyes across the massive stadium— all else fading into the background. We made it. And I’m not just talking about school. We made it.

I can’t even say against all odds, because all of the odds were in our favor. Same middle school.

Same high school. Same university, in which we lived in the same dorm and then the same tiny apartment. And of course we’re both graduating with the same crippling debt.

We could have lived at home and commuted, but both our parents encouraged us to have the full college experience. Neither are wealthy. They helped out where they could, supplying groceries and the occasional rent payment when they could swing it.

The point is, Jaxon and I were meant to be together, and I can’t wait to see where the rest of our lives take us.

After the ceremony, he finds me, sweeping me into his arms. I’ve never seen him so happy. And he’s got a lot to be happy about. He’s already secured a job as a math teacher at the high school we went to. And he’s got his eye on a small house around the corner from McQuaid Circle—the heart of ‘old’ Calloway Creek and the place we grew up going to the park, sneaking behind the movie theater to mess around, and having ice-cream dates when we were only thirteen.

I, on the other hand, have been sending out resumes for months. The only responses I’ve gotten are for unpaid internships. “Something will come up,” Jaxon always says. “You’re going to take the world by storm one day.” He always makes me feel better. He’s my person. My soul mate.

Our friends circle around. Jonathan throws his cap in the air. I catch it and laugh at the decoration on his cap that reads: 4 down, 10 to go. He wants to be a surgeon, which means four years of med school followed by residency. He’s one of the few men here who decorated their cap.

I hand Jonathan his cap and turn to Jaxon. “And you said real men don’t decorate their caps.”

“Who says I’m not a real man?” Jaxon says. His lips turn up into a smirk. “And who says I didn’t decorate my cap?”

Our friends go silent, all of them staring and smiling. I glance around. “Am I missing something?”

Jaxon falls to a knee and rips the plain black cover off the mortarboard of his cap.

Underneath, it reads: “Nicky, will you marry me?”

“Oh my god. Are you serious?”

He produces a sparkly ring that answers the question.

“Jaxon.” I kneel before him feeling like a blubbering idiot. “Yes. Oh my god, yes.”

He puts the ring on my finger, then flings his cap in the air and kisses me.

“I’m going to be the best wife anyone ever had,” I say.



The motion of the train jolts me awake. My face is wet from the tears I shed in my dream. It was more than a dream, though; it was a memory. And a reminder of what a failure I was as a wife.

Seeing Jaxon last night was surreal. It was bound to happen, but I wasn’t prepared for it so soon.

Countless things were left unsaid. My heart was screaming at me to tell him the truth, but my head kept me in check. He’s moved on. He’s with Calista now. Had I broken down and said everything I wanted to say, told him I’ve been miserable these past years without him, that I’d made a mistake, he’d have laughed in my face. He’d have said I deserved every bit of pain I was feeling. And I couldn’t have blamed him. Because he’d have been right.

It’s still dark out this early in the morning. On the way into the city, the landscape changes drastically from the occasional streetlight to towering buildings, fancily lit bridges, and all-night stores. Calloway Creek is a hidden treasure of a city suburb. A small town just close enough to a large city to make it commutable. A town too small for many.

Why did I think it was okay for me to come here? Someone left a nasty note in my parents’

mailbox telling them their slutty daughter should go back to where she came from. And I’ve gotten more than a few similar ‘suggestions’ on my Facebook page.

I’ll always be the girl who wronged the gem of Calloway Creek. The bitch who trampled the heart of the star quarterback who led us to the state championship. The one who cheated on the Calloway brother who volunteers in soup kitchens on holidays and organizes toy drives at Christmas.

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