He is still angry. Yes it had been a year, and yes it was childish, but it still hurt. It still hurt really fucking bad. Moreover, there was an unmistakable sense of longing that still yanked at his chest; would it ever go away? Try as he may, it was impossible to swallow down. Just one look in her direction and he was a dead man walking, and it made him hate herâŠ.because he couldnât hate her.
If he was over it â really over it â heâd be happy about her change of tone. There could be no better way to prove he had moved on from her than to give her that. But therein lie the problem. Nick wasnât over it; not even close. A love like he felt for Liana didnât just disappear. If it wasnât properly nurtured, it turned twisted and ugly, and it wore a face like the one he had now. Love gone cold was a nasty thing.
All Nick wants in the world is to muster the strength to actually tell her that â to tell her to fuck off. If he had done that three years ago, back when heâd a girlfriend yet again it sure would have saved him a lot of heartache. But his self-control was almost non-existent when it came to her, and even as he felt like he was forcing out a no fucking way, he found himself offering her a curt nod, finishing the remnants of his drink, setting it aside, and guiding them through the crowd of people to a quiet room.
The look on his face is all the proof she needs to know that he still hates her now as much as he did when he walked in on her dismantling their relationship. His eyes burn into her, carving back into her old scars of guilt, but thatâs not surprising. What is surprising is his choice to humor her, but sheâll take it. Even if he only wants to let her have all his pent-up hurt and anger in a more private setting, sheâll take it.
Liana follows him through the crowd, following his lead in throwing back the rest of her drink on the way out. She needs a better buzz to kick in if sheâs going to do this right â whatever this is. Itâs not as if she has a plan. Thereâs about a dozen things she wants with him, but which one ends up happening is not entirely up to her. When it comes to Nick, reason has never stood a chance against impulse.
She can feel that now more than ever once theyâre alone. âI know this is a year late, but... I wanted to apologize to you. Really apologize.â As her gaze shifts upward to meet those big brown eyes of his, her expression softens. Her heart trips over itself, speeding out of its normal rhythm. In the dim lights of this empty bedroom where alcohol courses through her veins, she wants nothing more than to take his face in her hands and kiss him before confessing everything. She reaches to take one of his hands instead, not bothering to think it through. âWhat I did... Iâll never forgive myself. I donât expect you to either, but I... I just wanted to tell you that. How sorry I am. How sorry Iâll always be.â She looks down to their hands for a fleeting moment, running her thumb over the top of his. âYou deserved so much better.â