Loving a Man Who Forgot Me Novel Chapter 31
Let her be.
I had my hand on the key, about to turn it, but I couldn’t. I was too selfish to do that.
I had to tell her the truth. I didn’t betray her like she thought I did. Once she listened, if she told me to go, I would go I tore the key from the ignition and shoved open the door.
Quick strides carried me across the street and up to her front door. The white, not red, front door. I hesitated, hand raised.
What if he was in there? I wasn’t getting back in my car and leaving. I let my hand fall against the door in three successive heavy knocks. And then I waited.
A light flicked on somewhere in the house and my heart lurched. Footsteps. A pause.
The turning of a lock. The slide of a deadbolt, and then the door was pulled open, and the face that looked back at me was fixed in a hard scowl. “What are you doing here?” I hissed.
Wary green eyes slowly took me in from head to toe and then slammed into mine. Only then did I realize what I was wearing. I quickly folded my arms across my chest, but it was a futile gesture.
“Nice shirt,” he commented, not lasciviously. There was nothing indecent about my sleep attire. His tone was more wistful than anything.
“It’s just a shirt, Abel,” I said letting the weariness seep into my tone. “It doesn’t mean anything anymore.” “It’s my shirt,” he said it like there was meaning there. I stole it from him once upon a time, but that wasn’t why I still wore it. It was soft. That’s all.
“It stopped being yours a long time ago. I forget that it ever even belonged to you. That’s how not yours it is.” His face fell slightly, and the tiniest pinpricks of guilt poked at me. “Why are you here?” I asked for the second time.
“Why do you think I’m here?” he asked as if it was obvious. Maybe I did know, but it didn’t mean I was letting him past the front door. “We’re not doing this,” I said firmly. He took a hesitant step toward me and put his hand on the door, preventing me from closing it in his face.
“I’m not going anywhere until we do. We can’t leave things the way they are.” We stood in a sort of standoff, neither of us budging, until finally I heaved out an exasperated breath. “Abel, I can’t do this with you. We can’t . . . I need you to go and leave me be.”
“I just want to talk. We owe each other the truth, if nothing else. You deserve to know why, and I—” “What I deserve?” I scoffed and pulled the door open wider, taking an angry step onto the porch. “
It’s long past too late for that, and as far as owing each other, it’s too late for that too. We don’t owe each other anything anymore.” “The hell we don’t,” he growled leveling his gaze with mine, our faces a mere handful of inches apart.
“Whatever we are now Abbi, it doesn’t change what we were. We owe each other everything.” I felt the breath of that word flutter across my own lips. I shook my head. “You’re wrong. The only person I owe anything is Jason, which is why I can’t invite you in. You need to leave.”