I heard him muttering something to Dax, and then he followed me outside to his car.
I put on my seat belt as he got in the driver’s seat.
“Reming—”
“No. Just take me home. Now.”
He stared out the front windshield. “I saw you follow him in the bathroom. Your dress was messed up when you came out. I’m not stupid.”
I blanched. “I—I’m sorry.”
His teeth clenched. “What happened in London?”
I sucked in a ragged breath. “I slept with Dax.”
“Goddammit!” He banged on the steering wheel with his fist several times, making me flinch. He stopped, his chest rising. “Fuck me, I knew something was off at his house. I can’t believe you—and him—” He rubbed his face. “I have to get out of here.”
He cranked the car, squealing out of the parking lot.
Neither of us spoke during the ride, the tension thick. My face was hot, my hands clenching the armrest as I stared out my window. As soon as he stopped the car at the curb, I unsnapped my seat belt and jumped out.
He got out just as quick, taking long strides to keep up with me as I practically ran to the front door.
“Don’t leave like this. We have to talk,” he said, his voice tight.
Shaking my head at him, I fumbled around for my keys. “No. I—I can’t. We’re both too upset. Just go home.”
“You were with him!” he yelled. “You’ve always acted like you barely tolerated him. You’ve been lying to me since London. You’ve been screwing him since you moved in!”
I flipped around to face him. “You dumped me, Hartford! You wanted a break, and I gave it to you! I wasn’t aware there were rules to go along with it.” I shook my head and took a step back, wanting to calm down. The neighbors could probably hear us. “And you posted a picture of you and that girl on our wedding night. How do you think that made me feel?”
“I wasn’t with her. All I could think about was you! I was just confused and scared.” He groaned. “I made a mistake.”
I believed him—but it didn’t matter.
“Are you . . . are you in love with him?”
I inhaled. “I can’t explain it, but we—have something.”
God, there was so much I wasn’t saying.
His face morphed to utter anguish. “Stop,” he said, pulling at his hair. “You’re fucking killing me with this shit.”
“I’m sorry.”
He spun away from me and paced through the yard. “We’re supposed to be together. We’re perfect. You’ve said so yourself a million times.” He stopped and looked at me. “Don’t you love me?”
“I do,” I whispered. But was it the right way?
Long moments passed. My breath hitched at the growing pain in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hartford. I should have told you about Dax as soon as we talked in London.”
He came in closer, his face vulnerable. “This is all my fault. I never should have broken up with you. I pushed you away and I just didn’t think you’d . . .” He stopped and stared at me for a long time and then his warm hands cupped my face. “I still love you, Remington. We have something good.” He kissed me sweetly but with urgency, as if trying to get me to understand.
We parted, and his eyes were feverish. “I’m the one that put you in this situation. This is my fault.”
I frowned. “Hartford. I have feelings for him—”
“He’s not a good guy. You know it.”
I closed my eyes. Opened them. “There’s more I need to tell you. You don’t know everything.” The heartache I’d nursed. “We slept together before I met you. Freshman year. He—he got me pregnant. I lost the baby.”
He looked shocked but wrapped me in his arms. “Jesus,” he breathed. “I don’t know what to say. That must have been horrible.”
I nodded, burying my face in his chest. He held me tighter, stroking my hair, his anger seeming to dissipate as the moments ticked by.
Later, he said, “You’re upset. Come home with me. I’ll sleep on the couch, and we’ll talk once things have settled down.” He squeezed my shoulder as if to reassure me.
“I can’t go home with you,” I whispered, yet part of me didn’t want to be here if Dax brought Alexandria home.
He nodded. “Okay, then let’s go to Minnie’s Diner and get some coffee like we used to when we first met. We can talk—as friends—and you can let it all out.”
A long sigh came out of me. That sounded good. I owed him that much. The truth. “Okay,” I said.
I WATCHED THEM leave from where I’d parked my car down the street. Earlier, when they’d driven past the bar and I’d seen her face through the windshield, I’d gotten worried he’d hurt her. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with him, but it was Remi . . .
I’d said hasty goodbyes and thanked everyone profusely and left, driving to my house like a maniac.
I didn’t care that it was my party. There’d be other parties.
Like a horror movie, I watched them hug, and my gut twisted. Fuck. Seeing them in a tender moment cut me in half.
I’d missed some of their interaction, but it was obvious from their body language they cared about each other. And now she was leaving with him—holding hands. My hands clenched the steering wheel as he opened the passenger car door and helped her in.