What. The. Hell.

Ryder gets into his car and starts to drive away. He’s being so careful with his driving—naturally—but he might as well have come after my heart with a butcher knife.

I feel like a fool for wanting to do all this for him. I spent all day feeling this incredibly deep connection with him. I cared for his daughter, making sure that nothing worried her at all. For her, this has been a fun, sunny day at the beach. And now, for me...

I should give him the grace to be an asshole in this moment. He just had to do something incredibly difficult. It’s news that will be devastating to Minnie when she gets older, if not now.

But it’s an ugly, hurt feeling in my chest that blooms and swells and takes over. His words ring in my ears, cutting me again and again. Would you have let that guy near your own daughter? I try to justify the words for him. I try to tell myself that he doesn’t know it’s Conrad. He doesn’t know about the pregnancy scare. He doesn’t know that I dodged a bullet by not having Conrad’s baby. He doesn’t know how devastating Conrad’s reaction was, even though...

Fuck Ryder. He shouldn’t have assumed anything. I shouldn’t let my feelings get trampled by another man who wants to act like I’m a fucking failure at something I haven’t even had the chance to try. How dare he? 

How dare they? He and Conrad both clearly assume that I’d be a terrible mother and I have no idea why it smarts so much, but it does. It’s like salt and acid on an open wound.

I’m sorry for myself for just long enough to turn around and slink back toward the beach. What am I going to do, anyway? Get in my car and then…drive out behind him? No. Not today.

As soon as I turn around, I hear him accelerate away, leaving me behind. My throat starts to close up. I have the wild urge to chase after the car, and it’s ridiculous. I don’t need to do that. We’re not there yet. We never will be there. That’s the thing I need to accept.

But I don’t have time to accept anything. I don’t even have time to storm over to the lakefront and wade into the water so I can scream under the waves, where nobody can hear me. Because there stands Conrad, with some shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Look, it’s okay,” he calls across the grass. “Come and talk to me. Not every babysitting job turns out. You can always get another one.”

I stop, crossing my arms over my chest, and glare at him with every ounce of hatred in my body. “Fuck you, Conrad.”

He pretends to act surprised. “My, my, Valentine, language.” He glances around like there’s somebody nearby to see, but the couple that was walking on the beach earlier is down at the other end now. Then he cocks his head toward the parking lot. His car is parked at the far end. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before. “Come on. I’ll buy you some food. What’s that shitty Mexican place you love?” He laughs. “We can go there.”

“You are honestly the worst person ever to live.”

Conrad shakes his head indulgently. “Look, your feelings are hurt. That guy was a dick. Did you see him throw me on the ground?”

“Yes, Conrad. I was right there. Of course I saw it.” I turn away from him. “Just leave me alone. Leave town. Find somewhere else to vacation.”

I get exactly three steps before his hand is on my arm, yanking me back. “Valentine—” His voice is urgent. “Stop. Please. I made a mistake.”

I tear my arm out of his grip and glare at him with gritted teeth. “Step. Back. I’m not going with you. Leave me alone.”

This is what I should have done all along. I should have taken a stand for myself, back in the city. I shouldn’t have let them fire me, not for that bullshit with Conrad. I should have made a huge fuss about all of it. I should have hired a lawyer.

I’m not going to bother with that now, but I don’t have to stand here by the beach and listen to this any longer.

He opens his mouth to say something—one more thing, get the last word in, stay in control—but then shuts it. I whirl away and head for my car. If he follows me, so help me God...

I’m pulling the door open when he gets to the curb. Not much in the world could deter Conrad right now, and my soul sags inside my body. I’m hurt and I have a headache. I’ve been in the sun too long. Keep it up. Just keep rejecting him. That’s all you can do.

“Valentine, I’m not giving up on you. I gave up on you once before, but I’m not giving up now.”

“Go home, Conrad.”

“There’s nowhere for me to go in the city,” he says, louder.

“Your apartment should be fine.”

“My dad fired me from the agency.” 

That makes my ears perk up. “Well, you probably sucked at your job.” I reach for the door handle.

“I’m not going back,” he says, sounding triumphant, somehow, even in this moment. He’s here for a consolation prize, and he still thinks he’s come out on top. “I’m not giving up on you.”

“Please give up on me,” I shout, and then pull the door shut with all my might. It bounces off the metal clasp of the seatbelt with a clang, springing back open because of course it does. I tug the seatbelt in with a violent motion and shut the door.

Conrad stands right in front of the car as I’m putting it in reverse. “I’ll never give up on you.”

I feel my shoulders dip down. I can’t fight him anymore, and certainly not from inside my car. I am on the verge of tears. I’ve never been more hurt, more angry. I am utterly defeated.

“Okay,” I say, even though he can’t hear me.

Then I drive away.