Chapter 22
Chapter 22
I slumped out of Eddie’s apartment building onto the street, jabbing at my phone to order an Uber. I had no clue where Nash would be on a Saturday evening, but I needed to find him and tell him how I felt.
I paced up and down the sidewalk, eager to put distance between Eddie and myself—and get to Nash as soon as I could. Where is that Uber! The bees in my belly were replaced by my old friends, the overexcited hamsters and that Destiny’s Child song about survival became my theme song. I was a survivor, I wasn’t “gon” give up.
I was going to get Nash back if it was the last thing I did.
A hybrid vehicle slid up to the curb after what felt like an hour of pacing like a caged tiger. Relieved I was finally making progress, I clambered in the back seat and the driver drove off. I figured it was still early enough that if Nash had plans tonight, he may still be at his home. The car pulled up outside Nash’s place, and my belly flip-flopped when I noticed a couple of lights on inside in the evening dusk.
He was home.
At Nash’s front door, I paused, taking some deep breaths in a vain attempt to quell my nerves. What was he going to say? Had I hurt him too much for him to take me back? Or, had he missed me and would greet me with open arms?
I did a silent prayer for the last option, raised my hand, and knocked on the door. I held my breath and waited. And waited. I knocked again, louder this time. He has to be here!
I heard the sound of a door opening, and my heart leapt into my mouth. This was it. This was my moment.
The door swung open and there Nash stood, looking at me in surprise.
“Hi,” I managed, my heart beating so loudly in my ears it almost drowned me out.
His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?” His voice was hard, angry.
“I . . .” In all the time I’d had on my way to Nash’s place, I hadn’t worked out what I was going to say to him. I’d only got as far as, “Take me back!” And, I admit, I had hoped that would be enough.
He raised his eyebrows in expectation.
“Can I come in?” I asked.
He crossed his arms and shook his head. He might not have been friendly, but at least he hadn’t slammed the door in my face. I was hanging on to anything I could.
I heard a puppy’s excited bark, and my eyes darted to the door. What I wouldn’t have done to have a time machine and zap myself back to when I was sitting on Nash’s sofa, dogs everywhere. Before Eddie, before I broke up with Nash, making the biggest mistake of my life.
Nash didn’t move. Instead, he stood, holding the door in one hand, glaring at me.
I chewed the inside of my lip. I wasn’t giving up hope. “Okay. I get it, you’re angry. And I don’t blame you. But can you at least hear me out?”
His handsome face was hard, his jaw locked. “You’ve got two minutes.”
So, no invitation inside. Got it.
I nodded. It was now or never. I needed to find the words that would soften his heart, that would allow him to forgive, that would bring him back to me.
I swallowed, hard. “I’m so sorry. I totally messed up. I . . . I thought Eddie and I were meant to be together, but I was wrong, so, so wrong. We’re not. He’s . . . well, he’s not the man I thought he was. It’s over.” I took a step closer to him, my heart hammering even louder.
He didn’t move a muscle, his narrowed eyes trained on me, silent.
“Do you think . . . we could try again?” I held my breath, hopeful.
“Try again?” he repeated, his brow knitted together.
“Please?” I took another step closer and reached out for his hand. As my fingers found his, he flinched, stepping back from me.
“Why?” He shook his head. “Why would I do that to myself, Marissa?”
“Because . . . because we were good together and . . . and I think I’m falling for you. In fact, I know I am. Nash, I . . . I love you.”
He let out a short, sharp laugh. “You’ve fallen in love with me?” He shook his head, stroking his chin. “You have the weirdest way of showing it, you know that, right?”
My bottom lip trembled, and I hung my head, thoroughly ashamed of my behavior toward him. I knew I had treated him badly, I knew I probably didn’t deserve a second chance with him, but I wanted him, oh, so much.
I had never felt this way about a man.
I looked back up at him and pushed my hair behind my ears. “You’re right. I haven’t treated you well. But please give me another chance. I’ve changed, I . . . I know things about myself I didn’t know before, and I want to make this work . . . with you.”
My speech over, I stood, waiting, the bees, the hamsters, a veritable menagerie of creatures, racing around my belly. He had to take me back. I knew how I felt about him; I knew it was love. Surely, he must have felt it too?
Eventually, he pressed his lips together. He shook his head. “No.”
My mouth dropped open. Did he really just turn me down? “No?”
He shook his head again. “It’s too late, Marissa. I . . . I can’t.”
I tried to swallow, my mouth as dry as a sandpit. Inside, my heart was breaking in two.
A puppy barked, and my eyes darted to the door beside him once more. “How are the pups?” I asked, desperate to stay with him, for our conversation not to be over—even if his words were killing me.
His face softened. “They’re good. I’ve managed to find homes for a couple of them.”
“Lucky?” I whispered, not sure I wanted to hear his response.
“No, not yet. I’m taking her and the other two to the SPCA soon. Hopefully, they’ll find them good homes.” His face was humorless, blank, impossible to read.
“Oh.” I thought of the conversation we’d had about the number of dogs that needed homes—and the number whose lives were ended if such homes didn’t eventuate. “Can I at least say goodbye?” I asked, my bottom lip betraying me as tears welled in my eyes.
He studied my face for a long moment, then silently stood back to let me step into the hall. With shaking legs and a pain in my heart, I stepped over the threshold, breathing in the familiar scent of Nash’s home. I waited until he had closed the front door, then I opened the door to the living room. Two of the remaining puppies, Lucky included, were so close to the door, I almost banged into them as I pushed it open.
I crouched down with tears blurring my vision, patting the two dogs and telling them how beautiful they were. The third puppy came bounding over to us, jumping up Nash’s leg. When Nash wasn’t forthcoming with his affections— I know how you feel, puppy —he turned his attention to me, climbing on me and licking my ears along with Lucky and her litter mate.
I wiped my tears away and looked up at Nash. He was still watching me closely. “They’ve grown so much.”
“That happens with puppies.”
I smiled at him and I was sure I detected a hint of a smile on his face, but it was gone in a heartbeat.
Two of the puppies bounded across the floor, back to their mother, leaving Lucky, nuzzling me and trying to lick my face. I looked down into her big brown eyes, my heart melting at the sight of her. “Goodbye, little girl,” I said, my voice choking as my heart broke afresh. “I’m going to miss you.”
Lucky gave me a final lick, her tail still wagging a mile a minute. With the brick in the pit of my stomach, I placed her on the floor and watched her scamper over to Nash. He collected her up in his arms.
“Well, I suppose I had better get going. Unless . . .?” I bit my lip, holding my breath, my eyes trained on Nash. He still had Lucky in his arms, looking every inch the stoic dog rescuer he was.
His eyes met mine, and he held my gaze for a beat, two. And then he looked away from me, and I knew he was lost to me. “Yeah, you’d better get going.”
And thud , my heart dropped to the floor, shattering into a million pieces.
It was done. Nash had made his decision. He didn’t want me.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I took the few shaky steps to the door and placed my trembling hand on his arm. I looked from Lucky’s liquid brown eyes up into Nash’s. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, tears flowing down my cheeks, feeling the sting of regret with every fiber of my being.
He looked away from me, his jaw locked.
With a lump the size of Texas in my throat and tears streaming down my face, I pulled the living room door open and immediately closed it behind me. I stood for a moment, my mouth dropped open, a brick in my belly, trying to process what had just happened.
It was over.
And it was all my fault.