“I was all she had,” Tatum said. “If I’d stayed—”
“No, you staying wouldn’t have kept her alive.” Spencer shook his head. “It would have destroyed you.”
“You did a pretty good job,” she whispered. “Because of you... Spencer, I believed you. You had never lied to me. You had promised...promised me...” She shook her head. “I could deal with my mom. I understood why my dad couldn’t deal. But you? You were my safe haven. And hearing you say that to me...that was the first time I ever felt alone.”
Her words wrapped around his heart, a vise of barbed wire.
She stood, finding her clothes and increasing his panic.
He stopped her, blocking her path. “I have no excuse. Only regrets. Every damn day for eight years I’ve thought about you, knowing I’d lost the best thing to ever happen to me. What I did was wrong but I can’t undo it—no matter how much I wish I could.” He paused, watching the play of emotions on her face. “Your dad wanted you in California, remember? You said no. Because of me. I was responsible. I was the reason you were being hurt over and over. Losing you was like cutting out my heart. But... I had to. I had to—”
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t. Not like that. You were deliberately cruel. You knew my weakness and you used that against me.” She sucked in a deep breath.
“If I’d asked you to go, would you?” he asked.
She opened her mouth, her brow creasing. “How can I know that? What difference does it make? You didn’t just take away my choices. You made me doubt myself—my wo
rth.”
“I was a seventeen-year-old idiot who loved you—” He broke off.
“And I was the idiot who valued your opinion more than anyone else’s.”
It was hard to breathe. “I’m asking for your forgiveness. Maybe, in time, some understanding.” If he told her he loved her, would it make a difference? “You deserve all the love, all the happiness a man can give you. You are amazing. Thoughtful, kind, beautiful. I’m sorry that my actions caused you to doubt that.”
She stared at him. “I need you to leave. Now.” She closed herself in the bathroom.
He dressed quickly, sighing at the sight of his shirt. Once he was dressed, he stared at the bathroom door. She was mad, and she had every right to be mad. She needed time and space. He’d give it to her.
He slipped from the room and headed to the coatroom, sliding into his blazer and buttoning it up before getting a beer and heading back to the party. If he was smart he’d leave. But he couldn’t, not yet.
He ignored the questioning looks of Lucy and Patton, pretending his cousins’ debate on V-6 versus V-8 engines held his attention. Thirty minutes and another beer later, Tatum arrived. Not only did she avoid making eye contact, she seemed determined to stay at least ten feet away from him at all times.
“What the hell did you do?” Patton asked.
“Don’t ask.” He glanced her way, willing her to look at him.
But she didn’t look his way.
She spent the next few minutes helping his mother pack up the presents for Cady and Patton. And another few minutes talking to the same older gentleman she’d been talking to before. He was saying his goodbyes when he saw Dean making his way to her.
She smiled at him, listening as his cousin undoubtedly tried to charm her. He looked at the floor at his feet, the wave of anger surprising him.
Patton said, “Tried to talk to her?”
He nodded.
“Did you talk to Lucy first?” Patton asked.
He glared at his brother. “What for?”
“She’s a shrink. And a woman. Might have prevented the arctic treatment.”
Spencer sighed, wishing he could take back the last hour. “Too late now.”
“I can see that.” Patton’s pale eyes were fixed at the doorway.
Spencer glanced over in time to see Dean point up at the mistletoe he’d led her under. He should look away. He should ignore it and let it go. He’d won the bet, so of course he was going to try to rub Spencer’s face in it. She’d turn and give him her cheek... Except she didn’t. She was kissing him. Her arms were loose around his neck, her lips lingering on Dean’s...