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"Look, Beau, I just can't," she said scornfully. "Let it go."
"I feel like what we had was something special," he pressed. He didn't want her to just blow him off—he had to get her to see.
She scoffed at his words. She'd grown cynical in these past few years. "Are you writing for Hallmark now?"
"Let me prove it to you. Let me remind you of how good we are together."
He watched her expression carefully, waiting to see her hard eyes soften. But they never did. "It'sover,Beau."
The words he had thrown at her were now being tossed at him, and it felt like swallowing glass. "I—"
"Pastrami on rye and a garden burger," the waitress announced, placing their orders down in front of them. Beau stared at his sandwich like it had just cock-blocked him.
"Anything else I can get you?" she said, a little too brightly.
"We're fine," he ground out.
The woman's eyes widened a little at his tone. "Well, let me know if there's something else you need." She quickly left their table, letting the hostility suffocate him for a minute.
"All I'm asking for is one chance, Vee."
* * *
Evangeline thoughtabout what he’d said as she watched Beau's expression change when he bit into the sandwich. She remembered doing exactly the same thing when they were a couple. She could have looked at him for hours—had done just that once before. He was still the most gorgeous man she'd ever known. Listening to him talking about their relationship made her want to try, but she refused to be hurt again.
Taking a bite from her burger, she let herself memorize every single detail of his face and body. This would be the last time she'd let herself see him. Of course, her dreams were a different story—she would fantasize about him every damn night, she suspected. If her therapist were here, she would tell her she was denying herself happiness, but lucky for Vee, her therapist wasn't there, so that bitch didn't get an opinion.
As they both sat in silence, she longed to reach out and grab hold of his hand like she used to do when they were both desperately in love and recklessly foolish.
Your mother didn't have a choice in the matter. Evangeline heard her therapist's voice like she was sitting right beside her. She may not have had a choice, but her father sure had, and he'd still upped and left, leaving her to be palmed off to a spinster aunt before eventually finding her way into the welfare system. Her childhood hadn't been pretty, but she'd survived and made it to adulthood with only a few lifelong scars as a reminder.
"Did you graduate college?" Beau's question snapped her out her thoughts.
She nodded. "Barely, but I did. Not that it mattered in the end."
"I don't follow."
She shifted in her chair. "I didn't become the social worker I'd been training to be. Instead, I started working at a bar." She shrugged, uncomfortable with revealing so much so soon. She'd always been guarded, but Beau had been the one exception for her. It seemed time hadn't changed that about him either.
"Temptation?"
"Yeah. Started as a waitress, then became manager within two years. When the owner decided to sell the place, I put in everything I had to buy it."
"Ballsy move," Beau murmured, admiration shining in his eyes.
She didn't say anything, but the truth was, the club had become her home, and she clung to the concept, digging her nails in. "I should be able to pay off the loan next year."
"I read it’s the most popular nightclub in Hollywood."
"It won't be forever," she said in reply. "I need to be ready for that."
She looked at the time, seeing that she had to be back at the club to meet a supplier.
"You need to go," he said.
Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she placed it on her plate and stood up. "Duty calls."
"Can I see you again?" he asked, rising from his chair also.
