9. Marx
nine
Marx
Lana hates me—I expected that. I deserve it, but I didn’t expect how badly seeing her again would hurt. I’ve seen her from a distance when she’s been trying to avoid me. But up close she’s breathtaking just like I remembered—angry and a little heartbroken, but still beautiful.
"Get out," Lana glares at me.
"I need to talk to you." I take half a step closer, then stop myself.
"No." Lana lifts her chin, though uncertainty flickers in her eyes.
"Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking for."
"No." Lana holds my gaze.
"Two." I counter.
"No." Lana presses her lips together, refusing to back down.
"Thirty seconds."
"Do you understand the word no?" Lana studies me warily.
"Yes." I lower my voice and watch her carefully.
"Excellent. Then we're done." Lana turns to leave, but I reach out and spin her around to face me. I’ll be damned if I let her go this time.
"Lana."
"What?" She glares daggers at me, and there are a thousand things I want to say—I'm sorry, I love you, I didn't leave because I didn't want you. Instead, what comes out is, "You look good."
Her mouth falls open, then she pokes me hard in the chest. "You do not get to show up after three months looking like some lumberjack fantasy and tell me I look good."
Lumberjack fantasy? Interesting. I’ll file that away for later.
"I know." I glance toward the door, then back to her.
"You know?" she growls as if the words offend her.
"I mean..." I let out a slow breath.
"You dumped me." She pokes a finger in my chest again, harder this time.
"I know." I lift both hands in surrender.
"After convincing me to run away with you." She glances away but not before I see the hurt in her eyes.
"I know." My brow creases as regret tightens in my chest.
"After telling me you'd never felt that way about anyone."
"I know." I square my shoulders and stay where I am.
"Stop saying you know!" She shoves me this time.
"Lana." I hold her gaze without retreating.
"No." Lana narrows her eyes, her voice cracking. "I'm not doing this again." She walks away, and I let her because I already forced one decision on her when I decided she was better off without me—I won't do it again.
It’s time for plan B.