Once in a Lifetime(80)

He was here because he cared about her, and she decided to take that as her silver lining. She stepped back to let him in, but he was already stepping back as well, away from her. “You’re…not coming in?” she asked, hating the naked vulnerability in her voice.

He didn’t take off his hood, so she couldn’t really see his expression, but there was a definite edge to him tonight—and a sense of exhaustion that broke her heart.

“No,” he said. “I’m not coming in.”

She absorbed the hurt, just one more hurt on a pile of hurts. He gave one curt, barely there nod and started to go. “Ben, I’m so sorry. I—”

“I’m sorry, too.”

She stared at him, throat burning. “Why did you come?” she whispered.

“I told you. To make sure you knew.”

“Why?” she pressed.

He was still a moment, looking at her intently. “It was the right thing to do,” he finally said.

An arrow to her heart. Her gut. Her soul. Because the implication was, of course, that she wouldn’t know the right thing if it bit her on the ass.

“Do you need anything?” he asked.

She nearly laughed, but it would have been a half-hysterical one. And in any case, she had far more pride than sense at this point, so she lifted her chin and looked him right in the eye and shook her head. “I’m fine.” She was always fine.

He paused, so she added a smile to prove it. Hell if she’d let him see her sweat. If he didn’t want her, she wouldn’t beg.

Oh, hell. She wanted to beg. Bad.

But after one last long look at her, he turned and walked away.

And she let him.





Aubrey had thought she was at rock bottom when she’d screwed up with Ben.

She’d underestimated herself.

The next day was a painfully slow day at the store. The day after that was the grand-opening party, and she was beginning to think it might also be her grand closing.

Heartsick, she closed up for the day and then dropped her forehead to the door. Damn it. “I’m not going to cry.”

“Okay, but just in case, we have reinforcements.”

Aubrey whirled around and faced Ali and Leah, who’d come in the back. Ali held a bottle of Scotch and three big red plastic cups. Leah was holding a tray of goodies. “Leftovers from today’s baking,” she said. “And trust me when I say you don’t need anything else when you have this stuff—not even a man.”

“That’s good,” Aubrey said, and swiped at her cheeks. “Because I don’t need a man.”

Ali set down the cups and poured them each a very liberal dose of Scotch. “A toast,” she said, waiting for Aubrey and Leah to pick up their cups. “To us,” she said. “And to Aubrey.” She toasted Aubrey. “Because you look damn hot in those pictures.”

“Yeah,” Leah said. “There’s going to come a day when you yearn to look like that again.” She paused. “And for the record, I’ve never looked that way. Bitch.”

Aubrey felt herself laugh for the first time in two days.

They all drank, and Ali refilled their glasses. Leah ordered a pizza. They inhaled it and then raided Leah’s bakery for dessert.

“I hate men,” Aubrey said much later, out of the blue, and they drank to that, too.

“I can’t exactly say I hate men,” Ali said. “’Cause I sleep with one of the finest men out there. But I recognize your right to hate men.” She hiccupped and then paused. “Wait. Why do you hate men again?”

“Because Ben broke up with her,” Leah reminded her.

Aubrey nodded. The room was getting a little wobbly. They’d had three double shots each, and the booze had gone straight to her head with exponential power. “He had good reason,” she said. “I wronged him.”

“That’s a chickenshit reason,” Leah said. “I love him, I really do, but he’s a * chickenshit.”

Ali snorted Scotch out her nose. “Damn it!”

Aubrey looked at Leah. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Leah said, maybe slurring her words a bit. “He’s made mistakes, too, you know. Lots of them. He should forgive yours.”

“Yes, but it was a doozy of a mistake,” Aubrey admitted. “And when it comes right down to it, I did it on purpose, so actually, technically, I don’t think that even qualifies as a mistake.”

“Hey, love transcends all.”

It was Aubrey’s turn to inhale the Scotch and snort it out her nose. “Gah,” she managed, her throat burning.

Ali was pounding her on the back. She got her breath back, but Ali continued to pound her until, with a weak laugh, Aubrey held up her hands. “I’m okay. But it wasn’t love.”

Ali and Leah looked at her, then at each other, and then burst out laughing.

“Okay,” Aubrey admitted. “So I love him. Damn it. But he doesn’t love me.”

“Does so,” Leah said, refilling her drink. “You just need to fight for him.”

Aubrey stared at her. “What?”

“You’re a fighter, Aubrey. And I don’t mean like this…” Leah put up her own fists and nearly punched herself. “I mean you’re not someone who gives up. You go after what you want. Yeah, you screwed up, but you know what? He did, too. He didn’t let you talk about it or try to work through it. He just closed himself off.”