I thought I loved this woman. I truly believed that. But all I see when I look at her right now is a small, self-centered bitch. “You never told me to date someone boring. We broke up because you thought my track record with supposedly boring girls was too weak, and I told you to fuck off.”
The smirk that’s been playing at her mouth since she appeared finally falls away. “You’re telling me you didn’t date her just to prove something to me? You were dating Abbi Matthews just because you wanted to?”
“Of course I wanted to.” I shake my head. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“You have a type, Dean, and it’s not socially awkward, chubby chefs.”
There’s too much bullshit in that sentence to unpack. “Get out of my house.”
Tears well in her blue eyes. “Why are you being so cruel?”
“Why am I being cruel? You just told the woman I love that I was dating her as some sick method to win you back? That is cruel.”
Panic creases her face, and tears roll down her cheeks. Instead of feeling pity, all I feel is manipulated. “I don’t understand why you’re so mad at me right now,” she says. “You told me you wanted us to be together. That you loved me. I’m here because now I want that too.”
“I don’t want that anymore.” Fuck. I don’t know if I ever did. I think . . . I think I was just lonely and wanted Amy because she seemed okay with my baggage.
“Are you punishing me for making you wait?”
I bite back a curse and shake my head. “This isn’t about you, Amy. I moved on. I’m in love with Abbi, and all I want is for you to get the fuck out of my way.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dean
I don’t bother with the car. I run the five blocks to Abbi’s apartment, cell phone in hand, calling her over and over again as I go. She doesn’t answer, and I only run faster. By the time I’m knocking on her door, I’m out of breath. “Abbi!” I shout. “Abbi, open the door.”
I hear her soft steps. “Dean, just go away. I don’t want to do this.”
“Amy’s gone. I’m so sorry she did that, and I’m sorry she said those things.”
Her jagged inhale guts me. “It doesn’t matter. Just go.”
I press my palm against the door and squeeze my eyes shut. I need to hold her. I need to see her face and know I didn’t lose her. “Please open the door.”
“What was I supposed to think?” she shouts. “She was in your bed, Dean. The woman you love, the one who left you heartbroken and so sad and lonely that you were willing to screw me.”
“I’m sorry.” Jesus. It really couldn’t look worse, but I deserve the fucking benefit of the doubt. “I swear I didn’t invite her. I didn’t want her there. Amy does what she wants.”
“Well, now she wants you.”
I lean my forehead against the door and close my eyes. “I don’t want her,” I whisper. She probably can’t hear me, but it doesn’t matter, anyway. I see who we are now. How this will play out.
“I suppose you want someone boring? Someone like me?”
Amy couldn’t have played more into Abbi’s insecurities if she’d tried. “I don’t want to have this conversation through the door.”
She sniffles. “I don’t really blame you, Dean. This is on me. I knew it was too good to be true. And you know what? You never promised me anything. I won’t hold promises you never made against you, but I can’t look at you right now. I can’t look at you and try to figure out if I can trust you.” Her words are muffled by her tears. “This has run its course anyway, right? It was never supposed to be forever.”
I feel like I’ve been punched. I straighten and step back. “Right. You wouldn’t want forever with a guy like me. Bastard kid of a cheater.”
Suddenly the door swings open. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Her eyes are red. She’s been crying, and I fucking hate that, but more than that, I hate that she believed—even for a minute—that I’d do that to her.
“You know what it means.” My voice is gruff. “You’re assuming the worst about me, and I’m supposed to fucking grovel when it’s your assumptions that are the problem here.”
Her red face contorts in frustration. “She was sending you dirty texts, then she was naked in your bed, and now I’m the bad guy because I thought something was happening between you?”
“You didn’t even ask me. You didn’t even give me the courtesy of a single question.” Anger floods my veins, washing away all the hurt I’ve been feeling for the last twenty-four hours. “You truly believe I’d cheat on you.” I shake my head, jaw tight. “But you didn’t ask. You just assumed. You believed the worst because it went along with the narrative you tell yourself—the one about you and the one about me. All the bullshit you fed me about believing that I’m different than my father, but you didn’t mean any of it.”