But I’m certain that’s not it. The universe simply can’t be that cruel. And Ava would never have knowingly given me a seed that wouldn’t grow. She isn’t like my mother. It’s me. I did something wrong.
All night long I stay up, staring at the damned pot, willing something green to push through the layer of dirt before I have to see Ava.
But my hopes and prayers go unanswered. By nine o’clock I’m pacing in front of the fucking thing, my hands shaky with panic. I can’t go back to her like this—a total failure.
So just get something from a local nursery. Who cares? All young plants probably look the same anyway.
But I can’t. That would be lying, and she’s already upset about the fact that I didn’t tell her everything. I can’t add lies to what I’ve done.
Damn it. Damn it!
Fucking Elliot and his fucking mess with Wife Number Three.
My hands clammy and my heart thudding, I somehow manage to drive to Ray and Darcy’s house without totaling the car. My eyes are gritty from the lack of sleep. I’m running on adrenaline and nerves, and it’s all I can do to keep myself together.
I hold the pot against my chest and knock on the door. After a few moments, Ava appears on the other side. Her long platinum hair hangs loosely around her slender shoulders and down her trim back, her sky-colored eyes unreadable. The dark half-moons underneath her eyes are gone, although she’s still a bit too pale for my taste. Still, she looks so beautiful in a red shirt and old blue jeans that it hurts.
My heart thunders. Boom, boom, boom. Can’t lose her. Can’t lose her. Can’t lose her.
I swallow. “Ava.”
“Lucas.”
Her gaze drops to the pot cradled in my arm. She raises her eyes back to my face. She doesn’t invite me in. Instead, she steps out and closes the door.
“Nothing?”
That single word guts me.
Blood roars in my ears, and I can’t stop the horrible, nasty feelings from gelling in my gut like milk gone sour. “Ava, I did everything. I talked with my gardener and I did everything I could. You have to believe me.”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe.”
What the fuck? “Of course it matters! It matters to me. It matters that you believe in me, have faith in me.” Her face is closing; she’s shutting me out. Panic spikes. “If you can’t give me the five minutes because nothing grew, then give me another chance. I swear to you—”
“Nothing was going to grow.”
It takes me a moment to process what she just said. “What?”
“There’s nothing but dirt in the pot.”
I shake my head, feeling like I’m in some kind of dream. “So I was supposed to fail?”
“Not fail. Be convinced.”
“Of what?” I stare at her, willing myself to read her thoughts. “Are you trying to punish me?”
“If anyone’s being punished, it’s me—you keep picking at my old wound.”
Suddenly, the lack of sleep and panic push my emotions over the edge. “Bullshit! That’s called bad faith.”
“Is it? I’ve done the same thing to you that you’ve done to me.”
“I’ve never acted in bad faith with you!”
Her cheeks turn red and rage erupts in the icy blue of her eyes. “You haven’t? You didn’t get me fired from my school? You didn’t have my new job offer rescinded? You didn’t withhold some pretty damn important information about what’s been going on between you and your father? About your inheritance? You didn’t do any of that?”
My mouth parts. I’ve never considered… I didn’t think about how my desperate drive to have her back would look.