Page 59 of Playing with Forever
Even if he’d broken me to do it.
CHAPTER23
Chase
Itapped my fingers against my desk, my jaw clenched so hard I knew my dentist was going to have a comment about it at my next visit.
Tate wasn’t able to find anything substantial on Brandon, and nobody else in the tech department did either. The guy was clean. I supposed it was just a dead end, then. Not a threat, just a mediocre, insecure guy who was jealous that he wasn’t with my woman and that I’d won her over him instead.
Well. Notmywoman. Not my anything. I’d made fucking sure of that.
In the week since Andrea had left my place, I had come to realize how damn sterile the place was. I had the latest technology. Everything was top-of-the-line. But there was no warmth or sense of personality. Andrea had brought all that when she’d moved in, and it wasn’t until she was gone that I realized how empty and lackluster my place was.
Truth was, I hated being without her. I felt hollow inside. My bed felt too empty. I hated waking up to an empty place with no bacon sizzling or coffee brewing, no off-key humming from Andrea in the shower. I hated coming home to a place that was now cold and dark. I’d been eating nothing but takeout again. There was no point in making dinner for just myself. But to be honest, everything tasted like shit.
As pathetic as it was, I missed Andrea like someone had taken a spoon and scooped out my organs, and I was lost over it. I had never felt this way about anyone before and I was completely unprepared to deal with the fall out.
The look on her face as she walked out of my place was going to haunt me forever. God. I was a real fucking tool, huh? It wasn’t just that Andrea was gone. I had made her leave. I had done this to myself, and I had hurt her in the process. The one thing I wanted to avoid doing, I had done it. And spectacularly.
Christ.
I checked the time, frowning. Tate was supposed to have let me know when Andrea was home from work, that she was safe, but that was twenty minutes ago.
“Knock, knock.”
I looked up to see Austin in the doorway. “You need something?” I asked, a little shortly.
Austin put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I come in peace.”
I sighed and rubbed my fingers across my forehead. “Sorry.”
None of this was Austin’s fault, of all people. I had done this to myself. And now I was a mess, nothing but sharp edges and I was inevitably going to cut anyone who got close.
“We had a meeting today,” Austin said, settling into the chair in front of my desk. “And we unanimously decided that you look like shit.”
“Thanks,” I said in a droll tone. “It’s always good to know you care.”
“Ford told me that you kicked Andrea out. Apparently her sister threatened just about every body part you have, including organs, and your dick,” he said, humor lacing his voice. “Ford said Violet was very creative about what she’d do to those body parts, as well. I think he was impressed.”
“Great,” I said, annoyed at…well, every fucking thing. “May they have a long and happy life together.”
“Don’t deflect, jackass.” Only Austin could make a word like ‘jackass’ sound affectionate. “You broke up with Andrea? Seriously?”
“You can’t break up with someone that you’re not dating. We were never a couple.”
Austin’s brows rose. “Okay, wow, if you’re that bad of a liar it’s a good thing the military didn’t make you an undercover spy when you enlisted.”
“Like you’d know anything about being in the military,” I snapped.
Austin gave me a hard look, completely unfazed by my outburst. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t back down. “You don’t get to pull that ‘I’m so broken crap’ with me,” he said, his voice low and firm, cutting through my defenses like a scalpel. “Yeah, you were different when you came home. You used to be laid back and lighthearted. The Navy changed that. I barely recognized you when I saw you again.”
My jaw clenched tight. “Yeah, it did, because I saw shit you can’t possibly imagine—”
“No, I can’t,” Austin said, cutting me off. “But this isn’t the goddamn Trauma Olympics, Chase. You know who else has scars? Everyone. Homeless vets, assault victims, kids in war zones—hell, even some of our clients are walking trauma cases, and you never once told them they don’t get to be happy.”
I didn’t answer, and he pushed harder.
“You think Andrea deserves better? Fine. But don’t you dare pretend you’re doing her some noble favor by pushing her away. She made you happy. Weallsaw it. That woman walked into your life and flipped every switch you’d turned off, and you let her. You were a better manforit.”
