Truce or Dare (Sweet Fortuity Book 1) Read Free Page B

tension between us, Wes grabbed a bottle of red wine and poured it in his glass and refilled the others.
    "Sherry, I heard your latest book did well again. Congrats," he said, bring up the glass and taking a sip. All of a sudden, all the eyes on the table went to me.
    "Thanks," I murmured, suddenly feeling very conscious of all the attention.
    "Congrats, Sherr," Haley said with a dimpled smile, and a couple of congratulations echoed throughout the table.
    "How long are you staying for?" Wes asked curiously. The unspoken implication of the question bothered me, more than I let show.
    “Two, three weeks."
    “Cool. We need to have some sort of reunion,” he suggested. A faint smile touched his face.
    I needed a reunion like I needed a bullet in my foot. Which meant, not at all.

    * * *
    I needed to escape .
    I remembered why I didn’t want to stay, and one of the reasons was sitting right next to me.
    I put on a smile the whole time, nodding when appropriate. After most were finished with their meals, sinking into conversation, I decided I wasn’t going to stick around. Giving an apology and mumbling something about being tired, I pushed my chair back, and stepped out.
    I was ready to head upstairs, when Chase called out my name, Wes quickly following at his heels.
    Chase strode towards me, while Wes stayed back, giving us some privacy.
    We both stood there for a while, measuring each other.
    Then he broke his gaze and looked away, his expression guarded.
    "Maybe you think I'm cold. Or that I don't care," he began carefully. "But I've had to deal with this for years already. Hell, I'm fucking tired. I had to come to terms that not only did you not want me, but you were gone."
    "And you think I didn't have to do that,” I replied pointedly.
    His expression gained a hard edge as he said, "I remember what you did. Don't start."
    "I've never forgotten it." I've never forgotten what he did either.
    What was that bullshit quote about time being the antidote of pain? What a laughingly cruel delusion. Time didn't cure anything; it merely dulled it.
    "It was your choice," he said quietly. And the weight of his words was like a punch in the gut.
    The hell of it was, it was, it could’ve ended much differently if I had made a different decision back then. "I know."
    His grim expression somewhat softened at my admission. Then with a nod, he turned away, and I watched his back, my eyes blurry with what suspiciously felt like tears. I didn’t have time to wipe it away. I blinked them back, refusing to let them see.
    Wes came forward.
    “He cause this?” his forehead creased in a frown. Then he released a deep sigh. “He means well. He just… He’s confused by all this. You came at a difficult time is all.”
    “I’m not blaming him, Wes. But maybe it’s difficult for me too.”
    He nodded in acknowledgement. “I know. Just wanted to say welcome back. You’ve been missed.”
    When I glanced back, some heads turned away guiltily, as if the wall sprouted flowers.
    I ran back up the stairs without another word.

    * * *

    I tossed and turned that night. As I tried to sleep, the conversations I’ve had today replayed on my mind in a loop. Compounded with Gem’s loss, it was too much.
    I've had to deal with this for months already.
    I remember what you did.
    I’m fucking tired.
    It had been two years, and it all came back, everything I tried to bury.
    He was my anchor.
    And then he wasn’t.
    I couldn’t hold on to anything. I always knew that. I felt like when he ended it, it affirmed everything I’ve always believed about myself.
    So I did what any sane person would do– I turned to music. I got up, took my earphones, and hit play, hoping the soft, soothing sound would drown out everything else and pull me into a deep slumber.
    Rage dwindled to a dull kind of pain, a sort of emptiness that ate you up. Then I realized somewhere in between consciousness and rest, that I hadn’t been mad at him, but at myself.

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