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Code Name: Disavowed (Jameson Force Security 8)

Page 48

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Glancing down at the table, Ladd seems to be collecting his thoughts. I’m on edge, wondering where we go from here. We’re skirting around touchy subjects that are backfilled with bruised feelings and broken hearts.

His eyes rise to meet mine. “I wasn’t able to compromise with you and I pushed you away forever.”

I’m so stunned, I don’t know what to say. When we broke up, it wasn’t nice or a mutual parting of ways with fond memories. Ladd said some awful things when I told him I couldn’t be what he wanted. When I offered the option of having kids later, he didn’t want to hear it. He put the failure of our relationship squarely on my shoulders, and I let him because I felt so horrible for letting him down. I’m still ashamed to this day that I hurt him so badly.

“I also think I hurt you as much as you hurt me, and I want to say I’m sorry,” he adds, his tone heavy with regret.

I swallow hard against the painful lump that forms and manage to rasp out, “Thank you for saying that.”

CHAPTER 17

Ladd

Dinner was a turning point. Not for the information we got on Mejia, which will definitely help us devise a game plan on how to get him, but for the breakthrough I had regarding Greer.

She’d made a mistake. She’s clearly been carrying the guilt of that mistake since we parted ways. She wanted to rectify that mistake, but I had moved on.

Those are all things Greer would say if evaluating herself.

But my revelation is a bit different.

While Greer felt she’d made an error that had a waterfall of consequences, I understand now that I made a mistake too.

My mistake was in letting her go. My mistake was accepting her proclamation that she wasn’t good enough for me because her desires did not match with mine. My mistake was in thinking that my wants and needs were more important than hers. My mistake was my inability to really listen and try to find a way to compromise so that I would not lose the love of my life.

I don’t know what to blame it on… immaturity, impetuosity, sheer selfishness. Probably all three. I know I was hurt she didn’t want the same things that I wanted right at that moment. I failed to recognize that she had dreams, too, and rather than agree to be her partner on that journey, I tried to be the dictator. And when my subject didn’t fall in line, I let it fall apart.

The rest of our dinner after Orellana left was spent discussing logistics. I was too afraid to delve further into the idiocy of myself, mainly because my mind had already started thinking about ways to repair the damage. And it only follows that after I repair the damage, perhaps I can make something new with Greer. But I have no clue if her head is even there. Maybe she’s far too hurt that I moved on so quickly.

And I did move fast after we broke up. It’s almost as if I had a need to prove to myself that my dreams were important and that I was going to do whatever it took to attain them. Did I fall in love with Britney?

Absolutely.

Was I vulnerable to falling in love maybe a little too fast?

For sure.

I wanted a way to prove that I was right and Greer was wrong.

So I got my wife. I got my kid. I got my house with the picket fence, although we never got the dog because Britney was allergic.

And deep down, I always knew there was something important missing. Britney knew it, too, and I’m so grateful that when we realized the marriage wouldn’t survive, she forgave my shortcomings and was still willing to not only be my partner in parenting, but my friend as well.

After dinner, Greer and I leave the restaurant with a divide between us, and as I contemplate it all, I know the thing that’s been missing from my life—that element of perfecting my happiness—is Greer.

The restaurant is only three blocks from our hotel, and we walked rather than take transportation. Three blocks was an easy journey, but the only reason one might consider taking transportation is because El Salvador has a fairly high crime rate.

But we’re in about the safest part of the city. It’s the upscale part, with many tourists and an abundance of police to make said tourists feel safe and encourage further tourism for the country. The streets are clean and well lit, and they are full of people walking among the many restaurants, bars, nightclubs, and swanky retail stores.

We walk silently, side by side, and I’m immersed in what-ifs. But then Greer gently slips her hand into mine, and it feels right. Reflexively, my fingers curl around hers, and she reciprocates.


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