Love. The first time he’d connected that with her. Not even when he’d walked out had he uttered the four-letter word. Grief squeezed her heart. Part of her was glad he hadn’t mentioned it then. Because whether he meant it or not, nothing could’ve stopped her from following him.
“I get it, Griffin,” she murmured. “I didn’t then, but now? I understand why. And you’re right. If I had gone with you, I might not have finished college. I definitely wouldn’t be the person I am today. My mother tells me that I’m too strong.” She shook her head, huffing out a humorless chuckle. “Maybe she has a point. But I was so desperate to go with you, to be with you, I would’ve settled for a half-life. I can admit that. I can also admit, you left me…broken. I’d allowed myself to become so dependent on you for my happiness that I was lost without you. The thought of loving someone to the point of, of such desolation and pain again scares the hell out of me. I can’t give that power to anyone again, knowing at any time they could walk away, and I would be in that place again. I can’t,” she whispered.
“Hayden…”
“Why did you cut me off?” she interrupted, the question bursting from her as if catapulted out of her chest. “Before we were…lovers…we were friends. Why did you cut me out of your life like I didn’t matter?”
“I tried to call you,” he said, and the quiet tone might as well as have been a shout.
She flinched, stiffening and staring at him in disbelief. “No, you didn’t.”
He nodded, his expression solemn. “I did. Several times during that first year. But you didn’t answer, and after a while I stopped. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me, so I gave you what I believed you wanted.”
Truth rang in his words, and though they clawed at her, renewing the pain, she accepted them. Believed him. A shudder rippled over her.Jesus, he hadn’t forgotten her… But how… Shit.
“Mama,” she breathed.
Again he nodded. “She admitted it to me.”
“Why?” Shock, anger, sadness—they washed over her, drowning her in their deluge. How could her mother do that? She’d witnessed Hayden’s devastation… The answer, as clear as a Texas summer day, dawned on her, bright and almost painful in its clarity. “She wanted to save me from further hurt,” she stated past numb lips.
“Yes,” Griffin confirmed. “When she was at your apartment caring for you, she intercepted one of the calls and blocked my number. She thought she was doing what was best for both of us. Your mother has worked for my family for almost twenty years. She knows them better than most people—reallyknows them. And she understood they wouldn’t approve, that they would cause nothing but grief and hurt for her daughter. So when I left, she believed back then that it was for the best.”
“She didn’t tell me; she never gave me any…”
“She didn’t want you to resent or hate her.”
Hayden studied his shuttered ice-blue gaze, the stoic expression. “Do you? Resent her?” she rasped.
For a moment, his full lips thinned. “I’m trying not to.”
This time, Hayden nodded. The sense of betrayal cut deep, even as she recognized her mother’s motivation. Helplessly watching her daughter struggle couldn’t have been easy, and her intention had probably been to just stop the pain. But still… Her mother had taken her choice as surely as a thief had snuck into her apartment and stole from her. Who knows what could’ve been between her and Griffin if their radio silence had been broken through the years?
What ifs. Could’ve beens. Should’ve beens. They were like pointless. There was no going back. There was only the here and now. And the truth remained in its black and white, stark glory: He was leaving. Again. And sex didn’t make them a couple, and it sure as hell didn’t make a commitment.
“What are your plans for the day?” She lifted her now cooling coffee to her lips and sipped. Like regrets, this conversation was fruitless except for the pain and anger drenched memories it drug up.
Griffin studied her for an interminable second before turning back to the counter and his abandoned eggs. “Another boring fundraising dinner is on the literal agenda.” A pause. “What are yours?”
“It being Saturday, I planned nothing more than vegging out in front of the television with Chinese food and aSupernaturalmarathon on Netflix.”
“Supernatural?” he scoffed. “Are you serious?”
She tilted her head and scowled. “Breakfast or not, if you’re gonna talk smack about Supernatural, your ass has gotta go.”
“I’m just saying. There are plenty of other shows on TV. Better shows. More realistic.” He snorted. “I bet you, like every other woman, just watch to see one of those guys shirtless.”
“Do you practice being that snobby or is it a gift?”
He shrugged, a grin tugging at his mouth and setting her heart off on another gallop down Stupidity Lane. “A bit of both, I guess.”
“Have you everwatchedit?” She jabbed a finger at him. “I bet you’re one of those who jeer and scorn but have never even seen an episode. Your ignorance is off-putting. And if it wasn’t for the promise of homemade waffles I’d be done with you.”
He loosed a low bark of laughter. “I don’t need to step in shit to know it stinks and is hell getting off your shoe.”
“That’s it, skeptic. Let’s bet. You. Me. Supernatural. And if you don’t like it, I’ll …cook dinner.”
A look of exaggerated horror crossed his face. “Howis threatening me with death a reward?”
