Chapter Thirty

 

“He’s not leaving, Scott.” Tara peered through the peephole. “He looks pretty messed up.”

“Good.” Scottie’s jaw clenched. She’d fought through sadness the whole day, and finally she’d gotten mad. Livid. Number fucking seven! “He deserves it.”

“I told you not to get involved with him.”

“Save it,” Scottie snapped. She wasn’t in the mood to take any shit.

Tara turned to face her, her cheeks red. “You’re right. Sorry.” She turned her attention to the peephole.

Konrad knocked on the door. Was he drunk? His muffled words came through the door. “Scottie, please open the door. I need to talk to you. Explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Scottie yelled from the living room.

“He probably can’t hear you.”

“Shut up, Tara.” Scottie raked her fingers through her wild waves.

Tara faced the door again, her hand gripping the doorknob. She turned it, opening it just a sliver.

Scottie couldn’t see him, though she stupidly wanted to.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Konrad,” said Tara.

The sadness came back. The devastation. The insecurity. The pain of the lie. She believed Konrad could be different than what he was. He’d made a great claim. He’d hooked her. He’d made her believe she was the one exception, but she was no exception. Konrad couldn’t change. He had too much baggage to let himself be vulnerable, and she was just a fool with a dream.

A fool with a broken heart.

“Please, tell her. Tell her to come outside. Talk to me for five minutes. One minute. That’s all I ask.”

Scottie could almost hear him breathe.

“Just a single minute,” he said, his voice full of anguish.

Against her better judgment, Scottie walked across the living room and opened the door wider until Konrad came into view. Tara was right. He looked completely messed up. Her heart clenched, but, she held back the tears and the urge to comfort him. Who would comfort her, dammit?

“Are you sure?” Tara’s voice was muffled to Scottie’s ears.

Scottie’s attention was on her own heart beating and Konrad’s glowing blue eyes, rimmed with red. “Yeah.” She stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

Konrad embraced her, but she shoved him away. “No, Konrad. You can’t touch me.”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “It was stupid. You shouldn’t have ever seen that list.”

Her heart throbbed, the tears fighting her to fall, but she refused. “Clearly.” She crossed her arms.

“It doesn’t mean anything. It was from before.”

“It was a fucking hookup list. For September, Konrad. September!” The anger bubbled up inside her, exploding with her words.

He dropped his head. “I know…”

“When did you write that list?” She needed to know, though the answer would hurt her worse.

He shook his head, sighing. “I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit!”

His eyes snapped to hers.

Scottie silently dared him to be angry. He had no right.

Standing straighter, he said, “After we got together.”

“You mean after we fucked in your office the first time?” She was being crude because the hurt had taken over.

“Don’t say that.” His voice was low, pained.

“When?”

He shrugged. “The day after that. Friday. It was a stupid thing we did.”

“Who?”

“Dallas and I.”

The wind was knocked out of her. “Wait. You two compared your hookups lists? Are you serious, Konrad?”

He nodded.

In a low voice, more controlled than she’d been thus far, she asked, “Who had the most hookups? You or Dallas?”

“Scottie, this doesn’t matter. It was before. I want you. I’m with you,” he said, a plea in his voice.

“You or Dallas?”

Silence.

She stared at him hard. She wanted to see every inflection, every flinch. She wanted to see the truth in his eyes. And she was so close to being devastated, she was shaking.

Konrad shook his head, his gaze lifting to the sky. When he looked back at her, his face was white as a ghost. “Me.”

The tears fell. Hard. Scottie didn’t know how to console herself. She’d never faced anything like this. Lifting her hands to her face, she cried in her palms.

“Baby,” Konrad pleaded, taking her in his arms. She let him because she couldn’t fight him. She was too weak. He kissed her hair and held her like his life depended on it. “Please, don’t cry. Please…”

She pushed him away finally and put several feet between them.

Going to her, he pulled something from his pocket. “Scottie, I want to make it right. I want you to forgive me. Please.”

He thrust a box in her hand. Thoughts spun in her mind. She could barely stay upright. She held the box in her hand as if it was an object she’d never seen before. Her watery gaze lifted to meet his.

“Open it.” He seemed hopeful.

Curiosity alone made her open it, and she’d wished she hadn’t. Inside was the reason she had to walk away. It was her grandmother’s brooch, the one she’d asked him not to buy back for her. Anger rushed through her, fueling her.

“No!” She threw the box at him. “You can’t buy me, Konrad! You can’t get me back with things! Throwing money at me won’t make me turn a blind eye to your little trysts. Not even my grandmother’s brooch can do that. Get out of here.”

His eyes grew wide. “What?”

“Leave.” She was trembling so hard her knees knocked. “I don’t want to see you.”

“But.” He retrieved the box from the concrete and held out it out to her. “I … want to work this out.”

“You’re not going to change. You don’t want to. Maybe you can’t.” She steadied herself, knowing she would never see her grandmother’s brooch again. “And I can’t trust you. I don’t trust I will always be the only one for you.”

“But you are.”

“Until when? You see the next hot barista on West Gray Avenue?” Her voice hardened.

“Scottie…”

“It’s over.” The tears came fast, her heart in her throat. She had to walk away from him. It was the only option.