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He ran from the room, into the foyer, and out the open front door to the driveway where Haley stood, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Where is she?”
“She left.”
“Where did she go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she say she’s coming back?”
Haley turned on him, her arms rigid, hands fisted. “Why would she?” Haley glared at him. “I thought you loved her.”
“I do,” he said, without even thinking about it.
He’d never said it to Summer, though.
He’d held that back. Another useless way to protect himself.
Because if he had told her, maybe she’d believe it. Maybe she’d have stayed after she called him out on his bullshit, the way she had with Natalie, understanding where the bad behavior came from and giving him a chance to do and be better.
What the hell did he just do?
He pulled out his phone and called her. Voice mail. He hung up,then turned and found Haley walking into the foyer, her shoulders slumped.
He ran back inside and found Jessica on her way out. “Where would she go?”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Where can’t she go?”
That stunned him.
She had properties all over the world. She had the money to live anywhere she wanted for the rest of her life without having to work.
She could literally give up her job and life here and build a new one somewhere else. Or everywhere else.
She could get on a plane, find that island with a warm beach, cold drinks, and no phones... and someone else.
He turned and walked away.
Jessica would be no help to him.
Summer didn’t want anything to do with either of them.
He passed the room where she still kept her clothes, even though she’d been sleeping with him. He’d never offered her space in his closet, not even a drawer in his dresser. She didn’t even shower in his bathroom. All her stuff was in that room. Separate from his.
How could he let her light up every inch inside him yet never give her any space around him?
They talked about how they’d spend time here and in Texas. She’d talked about him moving his stuff into the master suite at her condo in Texas. Yet if she left a sweater in his room, he returned it to her room downstairs.
Now he didn’t have to wonder why she stopped leaving things in his room.
He walked down the hall and looked in at the office and all her files stacked on the credenza he never used, not left on his desk, even though he hardly worked from home since she got here.
Without even saying anything, he’d somehow conveyed veryclearly that he didn’t want her stuff in his space, even as he tried to convince her he wanted her. She’d become so adept at reading people and how they felt about her, she’d seen the conflicting messages he sent her without being conscious of it.
She never said anything, but he knew she hoped in time he’d change.
He hadn’t. Not in time to stop this from happening.
He went up to his room, slammed and locked the door. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights. He let the deafening quiet surround him.
