Page 52
Story: Rejected Heart
He scoffed. “Yeah. Well, that apology is eight years too late.”
It was like taking a knife to the gut.
“I know you probably don’t believe me, but I never meant to hurt you like this, Liam.”
His eyes narrowed. “Youleftme. And you did it without any explanation. You never came back, and you didn’t return any of my calls. You sent me three letters over the course of a year and a half. And that last one…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You don’t have a clue what you did to me, do you?”
“I thought… I thought it’d be easier for you to get over me, to move on, if I just let you go. I can see now that it was the wrong choice, but I was young and stupid, and I didn’t have any clue about the damage I was doing.”
Liam jerked back in disbelief. “So, I was right, then. You didn’t know?”
My brows knit together. “Didn’t know what?”
The silence stretched between us, Liam’s eyes roaming over my face frantically. His chest was rising and falling with labored breaths despite the lack of physical movement. Was his heart pounding as hard as mine?
“With everything being the way it was between us, I thought I had made it clear how I felt about you.” His voice had dropped a couple of octaves. “But I got it all wrong. You never believed it. You never believed in the love I felt for you.”
“Liam, I’m so?—”
“Don’t, Layla. Don’t keep apologizing to me. If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m sorry I never took notice of your unhappiness. And I’m sorry that I thought you loved me at least as much as I loved you.”
That parting shot went straight through my heart like a physical blow, forcing me to stumble back as my hand flew to my chest.
I hadn’t recovered from it fast enough, because the next thing I knew, Liam had turned and walked to the exit.
When he strode out the front door, all I could bring myself to do was allow the tears to fall.
LIAM
It had been hours, and I still hadn’t calmed down.
Hours since I’d seen her.
Hours since I’d been the one to walk away.
And it was like I was still standing there with her, feeling every emotion under the sun instead of having put in a full day at work.
I thought that coming back to Westwood’s and working would help.
As the man responsible for the maintenance and operations at the amusement park, I had plenty to keep me busy. Especially this week.
It was the first week of July, and between summer vacations and the upcoming Fourth of July holiday, therewas enough work that I could easily put in twelve or fifteen-hour shifts.
Usually, I didn’t need to do that, because I had a team of guys that worked in the amusement park with me. They were all highly skilled and capable of handling the necessary tasks, which meant, barring any major issues, I could generally put in a normal workday.
But today, I needed the distraction.
I needed something to do with my hands, or I’d go stir-crazy.
So, I worked.
I worked and worked, moving from one task to another and sending members of my team to wherever they were needed.
My hope was that I would have calmed down by now, but I wasn’t even remotely close to feeling any sense of peace.
As I made my way back to the hotel—I’d been staying in one of the suites ever since things ended with Layla—my interaction with her hit me full force again.
Everything from the nerves I’d felt when I approached the store to the sense of relief and longing that moved through me when I first laid my eyes on her.
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