Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
The poker party was wrapping up when Cole’s phone dinged with a text. Chances were good that was Mila, so he left the phone in his pocket until he’d said his goodbyes. He made sure he was the first one out the door.
“We know where you’re go-ing!” Rio called out in a sing-song voice.
He didn’t respond. Rio might think he knew, but in truth it was a toss-up. Could be heaven. Could be hell. As he walked down the hill, he pulled out his phone and read the text.
Can you meet me by my truck?
By her truck? Fudge. That didn’t sound good. Not good at all. He tapped in a quick response. Be right there.
Sure enough, she stood by the driver’s side, her parka hood up and her arms folded, likely because it was fudging cold out here. And almost dark.
He started the conversation before he’d reached her. “You’re not coming back.” Might as well take the bull by the horns.
“I’m not.”
Between the fading light and shadow cast by her hood, he couldn’t read her expression very well, even when he drew within touching distance. “Still need more time to think?” Maybe he shouldn’t assume the worst.
“Not really.”
He finally picked up on the fact she was breathing fast. Harder to tell when she was bundled up. His stomach pitched. “What did you come up with?”
“I love you. I want to build a life with you.”
“Sure doesn’t seem like it.”
“Because it’s complicated. I love you but I don’t really know you. Keeping your past a secret… it doesn’t work for me.” Her voice trembled.
He gasped at the finality of that statement. There was no wiggle room. “Is that it?”
“No. Numbing yourself to get through the Christmas season might suit you, but it leaves me to celebrate with someone who’s zoned out. That’s a lonely place to be.”
He flinched. He hadn’t looked at it that way.
“I could hope that given time you’d start enjoying the holiday, but as for sharing your past, you said the movie theater is closed. If it will never reopen, I’m at a loss as to how we can have—”
“Hang on. Is this a demand for me to dump my grimy garbage on you?”
Her eyes widened. “That’s how you see it?”
“That’s what it is.”
“No, it’s not! Sharing your past, the good and the bad, is what normal couples do.”
“I’m not normal, okay?”
She stared at him. “Yes, you are.”
“I’m not, Mila. I’m broken. You don’t know everything about me, but you know that much. You—”
“Everybody’s broken! You can’t get through life without taking hits. I lost two fathers, and that’s left a mark. I’ve made stupid choices, and—”
“Like your ex?”
“Yes!”
“The one who tried to load you up with his baggage?”
“More or less, but he—”
“And now you’re demanding I do the same?”
“It’s not the same. Not even close.”
“Of course it is. I transfer all that ugliness to you so you can carry it around and I can feel better. What a selfish—”
“It’s not selfish, damn it! It’s how you’ll heal!”
“At your expense!”
“I love you, you idiot. What do you think love is?”
“Damned if I know.”
“It’s sharing each other’s pain!”
He mirrored her stance, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not in my world.”
Sighing, she shoved her hands in her coat pockets and glanced away. “You’re nothing like my ex. He set out to rope me in. You never would.”
“You’ve got that right.”
She met his gaze. “But don’t you see? You’re not protecting me. You’re overprotecting me. As if I’m not strong. As if I can’t handle—”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Not in so many words, but I get the message.”
He swallowed.
“You don’t trust me.”
“I do trust you. It’s me. I don’t fudging trust myself!”
Her breath hitched. “Then that’s where you could start. Goodnight, Cole.” Turning, she walked toward the cheerful Christmas lights strung over the archways of the mini-hacienda.
He watched her go, his heart in shreds. The sorrow in her eyes as she said goodbye would haunt him until the day he died. He’d failed her.