“BACK IN OREGON, I was engaged.”
“Oh.” I was expecting far worse, so I was somewhat relieved. This I understood. I came with baggage, too. There was no way I would judge Bryce for his past, especially since it included a broken heart. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s really not much to say.” He shrugged. “She decided she didn’t want to marry me and I was crushed.”
That was an easy way to sum it up but I knew there was more to the story. There was always more to the story. Deep wounds that he probably didn’t wanted to pick at or aggravate. Because once you did, the hurt came back all over again. “I’m so sorry. It’s obviously her loss.”
“It’s hard to see it that way, but I guess you’re right.”
It is, not it was. Saying it in the present tense meant he was still living with the pain of losing her. Amid a mountain of differences, maybe Bryce and I were more alike than I thought.
We’d abandoned the dirty dishes and moved to the the living room. Bryce sat beside me, his arm draped across the back of the couch. I reached over to grab his hand, our fingers entwining effortlessly.
“Did she give you a reason, or did she just split?”
He exhaled through his nose and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he stared across the room at nothing in particular. It was a blank stare, unfocused and far off. The vision before him was in his mind, not tangible. Recollection flashed across his face, and he took a moment to soak it up. He smiled at first and then his lips morphed into a tight line.
I squeezed his hand to comfort him. I knew this pain. It was worse than a physical ache because emotional trauma was so much harder to treat. You couldn’t pop a pill to quell the burn; only time could mend it. Clearly, he needed more time. We both did. But maybe that’s what we could be to each other. The cure.
“She left me for someone else,” he finally said. My heart constricted for him and before I could offer solace, he continued, “She was always a bit reckless. I knew what I was getting myself into, but I guess you can’t help who you fall in love with.” He glanced my way and gave me a small smile.
“Well, they say it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all, but I tend to think the people who make this shit up have no idea what they’re talking about.”
That elicited a hearty laugh from him, finally returning a brightness to his handsome face. “I think you’re on to something there.”
I winked, dragging my thumb across his palm.
Was it weird that I wanted to know more? Knowing we’d been through something similar made me feel more connected to him, made him seem more human. I didn’t want to turn our evening into a therapy session, but this softer side to Bryce was oddly intriguing. It was good to know he wasn’t always the superhero he portrayed himself to be.
At the risk of finding myself on the opposite side of the scrutiny when he decided to ask about Hunter, I decided to push further. “Have you spoken to her since? Did you ever get any form of closure?”
“No.” He huffed, releasing my hand and raking it through his hair. “We didn’t leave on good terms. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have done what I did, but you shouldn’t be held responsible for what you say or do in the throes of passion, right?”
He threw me a knowing look. His words mirrored an observation I’d made earlier, only in a different context. I had a vague idea what he was getting at—The world would be pretty boring if everyone stuck to their kind and followed all the rules . . . I broke too many back home—but the picture was still unclear.
“Wh-what happened?” I stammered. Do I really want to know?
Bryce shook his head and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “I did what any man who’s been betrayed would do.”
Oh, God. What did he do? The realm of possibilities was endless. I could be falling for a madman.
“Relax, London. I didn’t kill the guy or anything.” He inched closer, placing his hand on my knee.
I looked down at where he was touching me and then dragged my eyes up to his. Staring back at me was the same man who helped my mother, cared for countless other patients, breathed new life into me, and made me forget how broken I was inside. I instantly felt stupid for thinking the worst of him.
“When I found out who he was, I approached him and, let’s just say I made the pretty boy a little less pretty.”
“You didn’t!” I gasped.
“Not my proudest moment, but yeah. I tried talking to him at first. I wanted to know why. Only a complete dickhead goes after a practically married woman. But he insisted he didn’t know, made it like she lied to him, too. That made me even angrier. She left me for a guy who would sell her up the river to make himself look better. So, I popped him, right in the jaw. I didn’t think it was that bad, but apparently he needed it wired shut . . . or so I heard.
“After that, she wanted nothing to do with me. People around town looked at me as though I was the crazy one and quite frankly, I wasn’t having that. So I left, and the rest is history. And that’s my big secret. Can you still stand the sight of me?” He bared his teeth as if to wince, his eyes two slits of uncertainty.
It was hard to imagine Bryce being violent, but to me, his actions were justified. I completely understood. He was defending his love, fighting for what was his. “Bryce, I would’ve done the same thing if I found out Hunter was cheating on me. Of course I can stand the sight of you.” I caressed his face, tracing the sharp angle of his jaw. “It’s a really nice sight, too. And besides empathizing with you, hearing that story makes me see you as kind of a . . . badass.” I whispered the last part, a giggle tickling my tongue and threatening to break the barrier of my lips.
“Badass, huh?” That delicious smolder was back. It melted me into a puddle of gooey, giddy feelings.
“Uh huh.” I intentionally bit my lip, knowing that usually produced a rumbling growl in his throat.
He lunged forward, causing me to slip beneath him, his body swathing mine, hovering before touchdown. “I’ll show you badass, Ms. Monroe.”
“It’s actually Ms. Thompson.” I didn’t know why my mouth chose that moment to betray my brain. He was just about to kiss me, to do God-knows-what to me, and here I was telling him my married name when I was no longer tied to the person who gave it to me.
Our noses touched, our breaths inches apart. I closed my eyes to hide my embarrassment, the regret of bringing it up when it didn’t even matter. He brushed a palm across my cheek and urged my eyes open with the soft pad of his thumb. “I know you still hold on to him. I’m not asking that you don’t. But I need to know if it will be a problem. Do you want him back, London?”
Do I want him back? Not too long ago, that was all I wanted. But in truth, it had been some time since those unanswered wishes tortured me. I had no idea whether the relief was permanent or not, but with Bryce ready to reiterate how good it felt to let go, my answer was clear.
“No, it won’t be a problem, and I don’t want him back.” I searched his eyes, a flicker of victory masked with ambiguity. There was only one thing left to say that would turn that flicker into a full on inferno. “I want you, Bryce.”