Page 96 of Mr. Brightside

Oh.

Shit.

“Last night was the worst night of my life.” Cory fists his hands at his sides as he paces the length of the island. I’ve barely processed his words before he continues.

“I was worried about you. I was worried aboutus. I’ve been here all night, helpless, resigned to the fact that you were out making shitty decisions and regrettable choices. You have no idea the kind of scenarios I came up with in my mind.”

Fuckin’ A.Last night I texted Dempsey that I was going home to Cory. My husband has no idea that hedidget through to me: that I pumped the brakes on my impulsive plan to go after Ian McDowell and that I had every intention of coming home to him before Ashleigh called.

He has no idea because I fucked up and didn’t tell him any of that.

I circle the bar to meet him and open my arms.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. Let me explain…”

“No.”

What the hell?

“No?” I question, like maybe I didn’t hear him right. But he says the word again.

“No.”

Dread settles in my gut as I realize just how much weight those two little letters hold. Not gonna lie—it hurts. It fucking burns. His rejection stings in a way I’ve never felt before. I’m tired and on edge and so desperate to not fight with him right now. But all I can seem to do is push back in defense.

“So what?” I spit out. “You’re just going to shut me out? Not even let me apologize?”

“It’s not that simple, Jake.”

?”It can be! I said I’m sorry! I was at the fucking hospital with my niece! I meant to text you, but I was so determined to get home and just talk to you instead. Then I left my phone in my car, and I didn’t realize… I didn’t mean…”

I’m doing a shitty job of explaining myself, and I’m getting even more flustered because I can’t make the words make sense.

Cory shakes his head and averts his gaze. “Last night was the worst night of my life,” he repeats. “I owe it to myself to never have to go through something like that again. I can’t give you that power over me.”

I blink in slow motion as his words chip away at my tattered, tired heart. He won’t meet my eyes; he’s shutting me out just like I did to him last night. I’m desperate for him to just let me explain, but he won’t even look at me. I follow his gaze, my eyes landing on the ring sitting smack in the middle of the island.

What the fuck?

That ring’s supposed to be on his finger.

I run a hand down my face in anguish, grasping for any sensible thing to say to put an end to this madness. There’s a pulsing ache in the pit of my stomach as his intentions become more and more clear to me. He’s standing right in front of me, and I already miss him.

“You can’t just—”

He interrupts me before I can even object. “I have to.”

The look in his eye… the weight of his words… without consent, my body begins to shake.

“Cory, no. Please. Let me explain. I was coming home to you last night, I swear. I even told Dempsey I wasn’t coming to The Oak because I needed to get home to you.”

“You had time to text Dempsey?” he asks accusingly.

Fuck! I put my hands on my head and grip my hair, racking my brain for the right thing to say.

“I know that sounds bad, but I didn’t think—”

He cuts me off again.