Page 55 of Wild Heart

Ava didn’t look up at me. She shuffled the papers toward one another, stacking one on top of the other, and flipped them over before leaning onto her forearms and covering them. “I’m not sure that’s any of your concern.”

Fuck.

I knew I screwed up. Why did I think it hadn’t been this bad?

Evidently, this tactic wasn’t going to work.

“Ava, please look at me.”

Her shoulders tensed, but she did not meet my stare. I took a step to the side, sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the table, and made it happen on my own. She pushed off her forearms and sat back in her seat, like she thought if I was touching the table at the same time as her, she’d wind up catching some incurable disease.

At least she was looking at me now.

“I’m sorry.”

Her brows shot up, questioning me, but she said not a word.

“Ava, I’m sorry about how I treated you the day you came back. I never should have spoken to you like that. There were a lot of emotions. Your return was unexpected, and I didn’t handle it well.”

She swallowed hard. “Great. Well, thanks for the apology.”

“Don’t be like this. We should talk about this, try to work through it.”

Ava gathered her paperwork in her hands, stuffed into her handbag and stood, reaching for the bag with whatever she’d gotten here at my sister’s bakery. “Correction, Tate. We could have talked about this and tried to work on it. But it’s been just over a week since you welcomed me home in your own special way, and I’ve heard not a peep from you about how bad you feelabout it until now. So, I’m sorry, too. The time for us to talk has long since passed.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth. I know I didn’t make all the right choices handling things, but now I know I was right to do everything the way I did. Because at the very first opportunity, you’ll just break my heart all over again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”

Without giving me the opportunity to say another word to her, Ava turned and walked off, leaving me feeling like my stomach had been hollowed out and my heart ripped from my chest.

15

AVA

AvoidingTate for a long stretch was always going to be unavoidable as long as I was in Landing. Keeping my distance from him for an extended period would have been an impossibility, particularly if I intended to maintain the other relationships I had in my life.

Whether I liked it or not, ignoring what happened between us the night of the wedding, Tate and I were connected in another way—through the people we both loved. Deep down, my heart still had plenty of love for him, too. But that love had led to me making decisions that nearly destroyed my whole life.

That’s why I’d been glad to learn I’d grown some defenses against him. Granted, it wasn’t much, but at this point, it was all I had. Avoidance seemed like the best tactic to maintain that wall between us.

Because I knew what my weaknesses were when it came to him. One long look into those bright blue eyes as he said all the right things would have me crumbling.

So, it was nice to know I had the capability to do what needed to be done when he’d approached me at The Mixing Bowl three days ago. My mind was still reeling from that encounter.

I needed to keep things short with him. I couldn’t invite conversation or allow him to think he could gloss over what happened between us the night of his birthday or his inaction in the week that followed.

But it hadn’t been easy.

I’d been in love with him for so long—I’d missed him so much—and to not look at him when he was standing that close had to be one of the most difficult things I’d ever done. My mind recognized that my reaction to him was necessary for self-preservation, but my heart… well, my heart ached for him. For us. For the night we’d had together and the relationship we’d lost.

In a perfect world, I would have appreciated having more than just three days since our last encounter to know I’d have to face Tate again. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option.

It was Christmas Eve, and just like every other special occasion, the Westwoods were celebrating.

Sure, I could have elected to sit things out, but I didn’t want to punish everyone else in the family simply because Tate and I weren’t in a great place.

It would have broken Evelyn Westwood’s heart, especially when she lived for the way the family celebrated Christmas Eve. Years ago, I’d learned of the tradition Malcolm and Evelyn had started the year they met.