Loving a Man Who Forgot Me Novel Chapter 6
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The Ferrari growled, my foot heavy on the accelerator, eating up the miles between New York and Boston as I wove between lanes. The further away from New York I got, the more my white-knuckle grip on the wheel eased, but not my foot on the gas. A shitstorm of thoughts and emotions raged inside of me, knowing what I was heading toward, but it didn’t matter.
It never had.
I was like one of those storm junkies chasing after a tornado, not caring what they were heading into, because no matter how bad it was, you couldn’t resist. There was something that made you do it, something drove you headlong into the storm. For me, it was her. It was always her.
I hadn’t lied to Kat. Abbi and I hadn’t spoken in two months. Not since the night I asked Kat to marry me. There was no way Abbi would have spoken to me even if I’d tried. I couldn’t explain why I did it over the phone or in a text message. I didn’t even know how I was going to look her in the face after breaking yet another promise and betraying her in the worst way. It was fucked up that even knowing how much she must hate me, how much I’d hurt her, how me showing up was going to hurt her even more, I still couldn’t bring myself to turn the car around or even slow down.
I passed the exit for Brookline that would’ve taken me to my parents and continued to follow the ninety-five. I had to see her.
Tonight.
The thing pressing down on me, the weight that was suffocating me, it wasn’t going to let up until I did. I knew from experience, a fact that only made the guilt and regret worse.
This wasn’t the first night like this.
Kat was right.
I was an asshole.
This wasn’t the first time shit got so bad or I felt so lost I didn’t know which way was up anymore, and every time it happened, the compass always pointed to the same place.
We always ended up right back in the same place.
Where it all started.
God, what had I let us become?
Maybe I should’ve turned the car around and headed straight to my parents.
I’d caused her enough pain in the last eight years, starting with the night I’d wished every single night for the last eight years that I could go back and change. Make a different choice.
I eyed the next exit. I could take it and loop back around. Stay away from West Roxbury and the little yellow house.
I could take the exit and leave her in peace.
I could do a lot of shit.
I passed the exit same as I had all the others. This wasn’t about what I should do. What was the right thing to do. What was between us wasn’t about that.
Right and wrong stopped meaning shit a long damn time ago.
But the speeding laws in Boston didn’t.
Red and blue lights appeared in my rearview.
“Shit,” I cursed and let off the gas. This was just what I needed to make the night perfect. I pulled over to the side, knowing I was about to get fucked.
Should’ve taken that exit, asshole.