Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Marc’s lips turn downward. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”
He was probably hoping to have another good time. But then I look more closely. He seems sincere.
“I would have...” he continues, but then shakes his head. “I’m just sorry to see you leave.” He walks across the kitchen to the giant walk-in pantry.
On a lark, I follow him. He’s rummaging through paper napkins.
I draw in a deep breath. “Have you...”
Then I stop. What am I thinking? I’m about to ask a total stranger for advice. Then again, he’s not a total stranger. He’s seen me naked. He’s had his tongue between my legs.
“Have you ever cheated on someone?” I blurt out.
He turns from the shelf and meets my gaze. “It’s not something I’m proud of, but yes, I have. I went through the classic phase in my early twenties. I’m ashamed now. I was with a great girl—the kind of woman I couldn’t wait to take home to meet the parents, you know? And I screwed her over for a couple one-nighters.” He shakes his head. “Screwed myself over too.”
“Wait, wait, wait...” I tilt my head at him. “Your early twenties? That wasn’t long ago, was it?”
He chuckles. “I’m twenty-five. I was twenty-two at the time, so it’s pretty recent, but I learned my lesson. I don’t make commitments I can’t keep. In fact, I’m not sure I’ll ever commit. The one person I committed to will never speak to me again, and so far, I haven’t found anyone who can hold a candle to her.”
I lift an eyebrow. I could be standing here talking to Leroy, though Leroy was a lot older than twenty-two and should have known better.
“What would you do now?” I ask him. “What if that woman—the one you shouldn’t have let go—forgave you? Wanted you back? Could you be faithful to her the second time around?”
Marc rubs his granite jaw and doesn’t reply right away. “It’s like you said. I’m still young. If I could put her on a shelf for a few years and sow my wild oats, I would.”
I scoff. “So you’re still not ready to commit, even to the person who, by your own admission, was great and the kind of woman you could picture taking home to your family.”
He twists his lips. “I suppose I’m not.”
Interesting. But Leroy is ten years older than Marc. He had a woman he’d taken home to his parents. A woman his parents adored like a daughter. And still he screwed it up.
“What if you were ready to commit?” I ask. “What if you learned from that mistake and were ready to settle down, maybe have a family? Could you commit to her?”
“To Tamera?” He closes his eyes a moment. “Yeah, I think I could. I mean, I did. I just kept thinking with my dick instead of my brain.”
“So you really loved her,” I say.
“I did. As much as I was capable of love at that time in my life.” He reaches toward me and cups my cheek. “I don’t know what you’re trying to figure out here, but I think you probably already know the answer. What does your gut tell you?”
My gut? Heather said to follow my heart. Marc talks about my gut.
Then there’s my head—my analytical lawyer brain.
That part says run from Leroy and never look back.
I look down. My lashes are wet with a few hot tears.
I don’t answer Marc.
I don’t answer because I still don’t know what I will ultimately do about Leroy.
But I am going home. I’m going home for Lavonne.
Lavonne, who was my second mother for four years, who loved me as much as she loved Leroy and his brothers. She always said I was the daughter she never had. I need to see her in her darkest hour. I need to say goodbye.
And if she asks me to give Leroy another chance?
I’ll deal with it then.
I don’t have to decide now.
Then I know what Marc meant when he said “gut.”
It’s not the same as my heart.
In my heart, I will always love Leroy. I want to give him another chance because he’s still so much a part of me.
But my gut? The gut that takes what’s in my brain and my heart and puts it in the crudest terms?
In my gut I know I’ll never trust him again. Every time he forgets to call or comes home late. Every time he travels for business.
He shattered my heart and my trust...so much so that I traveled halfway across the world to find love again.
I care for him, and I care for his mother. I can be there, present, for both of them.
But I deserve better than what Leroy did to me.
Someone else’s words edge into my mind, though. Brett’s from early this morning on the beach.
Your heart isn’t your own to give right now. You and I both know it. You owe it yourself to see him, talk to him. Maybe you can work it out, and maybe you can’t, but you have to try. It’s too late for me. But it doesn’t have to be too late for you.