Page 9 of Love Me

I sit up, causing her hand to stop moving.

“Why does it have to be here?”

She gives me a curious look. “What do you mean?”

“That asshole said you told him you were planning to move back to Williamsport. Why wasn’t I the first person you told about moving back home?”

I hope like hell she doesn’t hear the hurt in my voice.

Her face wrinkles before realization dawns in her expression. “I told him that the last time we talked.” She shrugs. “I just said it without thinking.”

My heart sinks a little, but I don’t believe her words for too long.

“You said it because home is where you belong.”

Monique’s eyes widen. My eyes fall to her lips. The same lips she’s pressing together. The movement she does when she’s at a loss for words.

Finally, she pushes at my shoulder and says, “I just said it to make him think he wasn’t the only one who was moving on.”

She tries to infuse her voice with levity.

I flex my fingers to keep from balling them into fists. Everything inside of me wants to make another trip back to Miami for the pleasure of beating her ex-fiancé’s ass again.

Once wasn’t enough.

“I should’ve called you sooner,” I say, regret lacing my tone. I won’t tell her how difficult it became to hear her voice after she got engaged.

Knowing that she would be spending her life with another man ripped a mile-wide hole in my chest. It was as bad as the moment she told me she wasn’t returning to Williamsport. Only worse.

“You should have,” she retorts. “I’m tired of talking about me. What about you? Are you still with that lame ass architecture firm instead of at your family’s business where you belong?”

“That architecture firm is one of the best in Williamsport.”

“It’s not Townsend Real Estate.”

“Nothing is Townsend Real Estate,” I reply. “And we’re not done talking about you. Why does your art gallery have to open here?”

Her head cocks to the side. “Because this is where I live.”

“You don’t have to live here.”

Her eyes bulge.

“My job is here,” she insists.

“There are art museums in Williamsport the last time I checked.”

“I have an apartment and a lease I can’t just walk out on.” She waves her arm, gesturing to the space we’re in.

For the first time I notice how bare her apartment is. “Where’s all your furniture?”

Frowning, she glances around also. “Lawrence took half of it since we both went in on the furniture.”

I crack my knuckles.

“Don’t start that,” she says, knowing me too well.

“You can break a lease.” I turn my attention back on her. “I’ll pay the fee.”