Page 125

The gentleness in my best friend’s voice made my heart finally snap. The floodgates opened, and I started bawling.

“Oh, no, Harley,” Cassidy said. “Cry it out. Then take a few deep breaths. Tell me what’s going on.”

All I could do for a few solid minutes was cry. Cassidy waited, patiently, until I’d made it through the worst of the tears and started doing my breathing exercises.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Not really,” I said.

Then I told her everything. How it’d been so good, how he said he loved me and talked about having more kids. How I’d told him I loved him—how foolish that felt now. How I’d been on cloud nine, and then how it all came crashing down. I told her about his sketchy twin brother scaring me, how Stephan had yelled at me, and then, of course, that I’d found him in bed with Blakely.

“Jesus Christ,” Cassidy said. “The stuff with his brother is one thing, but he fucker around?”

“I know,” I said. “I couldn’t believe it either. Part of me still can’t.”

“He was like, obsessed with you,” Cassidy said. “So why the hell would he cheat? And withher?”

“I don’t know. He says he doesn’t remember.”

“Men are such assholes,” she said. “Liars. Dickheads. How could he not remember? Did he blame the alcohol?”

“I’m not letting him,” I said. “He can’t use being drunk as an excuse. Not ever, but especially not for this.”

“Damn right,” Cassidy agreed. “Someone’s got to hold him responsible. I wish it didn’t have to be you.”

That made the tears well up in my eyes again. “I really thought… God, I thought—” The words were trapped in my throat.

“You love him. I know you wanted a real future with him, Harley. I really wanted that for you, too. You deserve to be happy. I’m really sorry.”

Again, the tears spilled over. Cassidy had been rooting for me and Stephan more than anyone else. She’d even job hunted for me. That made me feel like I wasn’t crazy—that there really was something between me and Stephan. Enough that other people could see it, too.

He’d thrown that all away.

I wished I knew why.

“I should fly up there and punch him in the dick,” Cassidy said.

That surprised a laugh out of me. “Don’t waste your money on the flight. I’m coming home tomorrow.”

“Good. I’ll meet you at your place. And I’ll bring ice cream and movies and sour cream and onion chips. We can bash anything with a penis. Except Dylan. He’s the exception because he’s amazing.”

“Thanks, Cassidy. I’ll let you know when we land.”

“Can’t wait to see you, girl. Take care of yourself.”

“I will,” I promised.

When I put my phone down, I felt a little better—a little more grounded. I knew getting out of here was the right thing.

I’d have to start over. Again.

Alone.

I got out of bed and took a few deep, steadying breaths. I stepped into the hallway and listened for sounds of wakefulness from Dylan’s room. It was quiet. I pushed the door open a crack. Dylan was still dead to the world, sprawled on his comforter and drooling on his pillow. My heart warmed at the sight.

No matter what happened between me and Stephan, I’d always have my son. I had to do right by him.

I descended the stairs, ready to make coffee and pancakes and figure out how to tell Dylan we were leaving tomorrow…