“You’ve got to give her space,” Eli said from the barstool on Beckett’s right.
Poppy nodded from her seat on his left, picking at her pizza. “He’s right. Space. I’m not going home until tonight, so she can…you know, take some time.”
“How do you know that’s where she is?” Beckett asked.
She shrugged. “I’m assuming. She wouldn’t go to Mom or Summer because she’d want time to think things through. And, obviously, she’s not going to be talking to me, so…home it is.”
Eli threw a straw wrapper in her direction. “This is partly your fault, too, you know.”
Beckett lifted his eyebrows at Poppy.
“I know,” she conceded, setting down her slice of pizza. “She—she just seemed so sad about Tom and the wedding, and she was talking about France! I mean, if she really wanted to go, she would have been excited about it. She would have come straight to me and told me. Instead, it was a secret at first and she said it grudgingly, like she didn’t want to do it. It just seemed like a default…like it was her best choice to get away from all this.”
Beckett rubbed his hands over his face. “Yeah, so she couldn’t talk to you, and then she finds out you and I are plotting behind her back.”
“I’m not sure if plotting is the best word considering it was a plan that just happened to coincide with a time when she needed cheering up the most.”
Eli sipped his soda and shook his head. “I don’t care what you call it or what you were planning, you kept it from her for a long time. That’s what Tom did—already one strike against you. And then she finds out you were doing it to get her out of her funk—”
“I was doing it because I care about her,” Beckett growled. Because he loved her.
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m telling you, that’s probably how she sees it. You just wanted help getting closer to her, help showing her how you feel, but she sees it as a pity move. Like everyone felt sorry for her so they set up a plan for you to get close to her to make her feel better.”
“That sounds like Anna.” Poppy frowned at her pizza. “And she couldn’t even talk to me about it because we were pissed at each other.”
Eli took a large bite of pizza, his appetite unbothered by the conversation. “You both screwed up.”
“You’re not helping,” Beckett said.
Poppy sighed. “He’s right. It wasn’t the best way to go about handling this.”
“But, on the other hand,” Eli added, consideration in his voice, “Anna’s got to get over what happened. If this does it, then maybe everything will turn out okay.”
“Silver lining. Great.” But that didn’t take away the sick feeling in his stomach.
“Or,” Poppy said, “she’s going to use this as an excuse to go to France.”
Beckett gritted his teeth and stood. “I’m going over there.”
“No.” Eli blocked his way. “Bad idea. Not yet.”
“She needs more time,” Poppy told him.
Beckett returned to his seat against his better judgment. “One hour and that’s it.”
“Make it two,” Eli said, “and I’ll drive you myself.”
{}{}{}
Anna paced the floor of her living room in her socks, mind whirling. They’d plotted behind her back. Felt sorry for her and made a plan for Beckett to cheer her up.
Her entire family! Was she really that pathetic? They felt so bad for her, they thought distracting her with a man, a friend, would get her past it?
And she’d fallen for it. Fallen for Beckett. She’d let him have her heart—or at least part of it. Was it even real?
The more she thought about it, and the more she paced, the angrier she got. After she’d practically worn a hole in her carpet, she walked into her bedroom and stared at her laptop.
She might have a message from Celeste. In fact, she might have more than a message. She probably had a place to live and somewhere to work. A place to start over.
Anna bit her lip, still frozen in her doorway. Moving to France was a huge deal. Even thinking about moving was a huge deal. But it would solve so many problems. Or at least give her the chance to sort them through.
But she’d thought she sorted them through this morning with her mom. In fact, she’d felt at peace about everything—including not moving to France—because she wasn’t sure that’s what she really wanted.
Now, it was the only thing that seemed to make sense.
Before she could think any more, she heard a knock at her front door.
“Seriously?” she huffed.
Who the hell was that? Beckett? Because he so didn’t want to try to talk to her right now. She had a million things to say to him and her family and most weren’t good.
She stalked to the door, whipped it open, and those words caught in her throat.
“Hi,” Tom said.
“What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t know where else to go. Catrina and I broke up.” He swallowed and met her eyes. “Can I come in?”
“I don’t—that’s a really bad idea. We’re not—”
“Together anymore, I know.” He gave a bitter laugh. “We’re not even friends and it’s my fault.”
It was the first time he’d taken any kind of responsibility for what had gone on between them. But still, she didn’t want Tom here. And she definitely didn’t want Tom here talking about his other ex-fiancée.
“Please?” he asked. “I know you hate me right now. I know you don’t want to have anything to do with me, but it’s a long drive back to the city and I don’t think I’m going to make it. She made me pack up all my stuff and move out. I don’t have anywhere else to go except for a hotel and…” He appealed to her with tired eyes. “You’re the only one I know who knows how this feels.”
“Did she cheat on you?” Anna asked in a low voice.
“No, but she might as well have. She told me we weren’t going to work out and she said she wanted to see other people.”
Anna hesitated. Tom in her apartment? Horrible idea. But God, he didn’t even look like himself. He looked beaten. And he was right; she knew exactly how he felt.
She stepped back from the door and let him in.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You want some tea or coffee?”
“Coffee would be great. Thanks.”
Anna walked to the kitchen, expecting him to sit on the couch and wait. Instead, he followed her, perching on a stool at the other side of the counter.
He shoved a hand through his hair. “I blew it. I get it now. I completely blew it with you, and I understand why you left. I still wish you would have talked to me, but if I had been in your shoes, I probably would have walked out, too. Or burned all your clothes just to be dramatic.”
Anna allowed for a small smile. “Don’t get me wrong, something more dramatic was definitely tempting.”
Tom laughed though it sounded rough. “I would have deserved it.”
She turned on the coffee pot and looked over at him. “Are you just saying that or do you really mean it?”
“I really mean it.” His dark eyes were sincere and met hers straight on. “I do. To tell you the truth, I felt guilty after the last time I talked to you and I—well, I sort of thought it would be best to tell Catrina the truth.”
“That you came to talk to me?”
He nodded, dropping his eyes again. “And that I sort of…wanted another chance with you.”
Anna kept her voice even when she said, “That must have been hard for you.”
“It was.” He tapped his hands on the top of the counter and looked up again. “Which means it must have been just as hard for you to hear it from me after everything I did.”
Surprise flickered through her. Was he really apologizing? Truly understanding where she came from and what he’d done wrong?
Unsure what to say, Anna turned for mugs and set them on the counter next to the coffee pot. “Cream? Sugar?”
“Both.”
She pulled cream from the refrigerator and set out a dish of sugar.
Tom cleared his throat. “It’s just…you’re being awful nice to me considering what I put you through.”
“I had a pretty shitty day, too. I guess misery loves company.”
He smiled at that. “Sometimes.”
“You want to sit in the living room?”
“Sure.”
They took their mugs to the couch and settled in on opposite sides.
Tom stared at his coffee but didn’t drink it. “I guess the other reason why I came here is that…I wanted to say sorry.”
She hadn’t thought she needed to hear the words, but at the moment, they filled something inside her. Set her at ease about the past.
“I thought I was in love with Catrina. It was new and different, and her family’s position meant good exposure for me in my career and…” His voice trailed off when he looked at her. He sighed. “Yeah, I guess you don’t need to hear all the reasons behind why I did what I did.”
“It helps,” she said. “It helps knowing where your head was at. That—”
“I didn’t do it just to hurt you? Because I swear I didn’t. We’d been together so long and when Catrina came along, I got caught up in the excitement of it all—and everything else it promised. And…about three months into it, I realized I still loved you and there was nothing I could do about it.”
Anna sipped her coffee. “It’s good that you told Catrina.”
“Feels like shit right now. But yeah, maybe in the long run.”
“You’ll move on. We all do.”
Tom frowned. “How’s that working out for you?”
Anna laughed, but it came out rough. “Not so well today.”
“It’s Beckett, right?”
“I don’t think I’m comfortable talking about that with you.”
“I get it.” He shrugged. “We’re not friends.”
“Not yet.”
He smiled, even though his eyes still looked tired. “I knew he loved you, even when we were together.”
Anna stared at him. “What?”
“I could see it. Every time he was around you. I got so mad about it one time, I told him to stay away from you.”
“Tom!”
“I know. It was a bad move considering how close you two were as friends. But it made me jealous and I thought if you spent too much time together, something might happen.”
An ache bloomed in her throat. If Tom had seen how much Beckett had cared about her back then, and her mom had seen it…maybe he really had been in love with her before any of this ever started.
“You love him.” Tom shifted on the couch and set his mug aside. “I can see it in your eyes.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. She did. She loved Beckett. But that didn’t fix the giant hole she had in her heart. The only thing keeping her together at this point, ironically, was Tom. He gave her something else to focus on.
When she heard another knock at the door, she pressed her hands over her face. “God, doesn’t anyone call anymore?”
“You want me to get it?” Tom asked.
She gave a choked laugh and stood. “No. I got it.”
“I’ll refill your coffee.”
Once he had disappeared in the kitchen, Anna opened the door.
Beckett stood there, his hair mussed like he’d run his hand through it more than once. She couldn’t help the quick flutter of her heart at seeing him.
“Anna,” he said.
She closed the door a little, but she could still hear dishes clinking from the kitchen. “Beckett, this isn’t a good time.”
“I know you want your space,” he said, “but I can’t leave things like this.”
“It’s not that. I just don’t want company right now. I need—”
“Please. Please, Anna.” He stepped closer to the door, hands out. “It’s not what you think it is. I asked Poppy for help because I didn’t know how to tell you how I felt. I just—I wanted to do it right. You seemed so down about Tom still—”
“So you guys did all this to help me get over Tom?”
He winced at the words, and guilt flickered. No, she didn’t believe he’d intentionally done anything to hurt her.
“No,” Beckett said. “No, not just that. I care about you, Anna. I—”
His words were cut off at the sound of Tom’s voice from behind her.
“Anna, you’re out of sugar.”
She grimaced, and Beckett’s face twisted, going from confusion to hurt.
“I didn’t realize you had company,” Beckett said, taking a step back.
Tom appeared next to her with a frown. “I’m sorry. Sorry, I’ll just—”
He didn’t finish what he was saying, just returned to the kitchen. But it was too late.
Anna’s stomach clenched. “He just stopped by because—”
“No.” Beckett held up a hand. His face went blank, shutting off all emotion. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”
“No, you don’t. This is just—”
“A miscommunication?” Beckett asked, voice clogged with hurt. “Yeah. This whole day has been one big mess of miscommunication. I’ll let you get back to your company.”
Before Anna could stop him, he disappeared down the hallway. She slowly closed the door and rested her forehead against it, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Now what was she supposed to do?
And why, when she thought she’d never forgive Tom, was he the only one she felt like she could talk to?