Wasted Love with You (Wasted Love 1)

The uneasy chill from earlier returns to my spine, but I refuse to believe there’s any correlation.

“Am I being moved to another room then?” I ask.

“I’m afraid not,” he says. “We don’t have any other rooms available to you this evening.”

“The sign outside says there are plenty of vacancies.”

“We don’t have a room for you.” The sudden firm tone of his voice makes me still. “If you like, I can make a few calls to hotels outside the city. Ones that are outside of a certain county’s jurisdiction.”

Son of a bitch. “What time did Nate Taylor call you?”

“Who?”

“What time did he call?”

“A little over an hour ago.”

“And you’re willing to kick out a paying customer just because he says so? Because he paid you?”

“He’s on the county’s hospitality commerce board, Mrs. Taylor.”

“Miss Jane.”

“Miss Jane.” He softens his tone. “I can’t risk saying no to anything a man in his position requests.”

“No, you just don’t want to.” I grab the handle of my luggage and set the trash bags on top of it.

I don’t bother giving him a set of parting words.

It won’t matter.

I roll my things outside to my car, refusing to let a single tear well in my eyes.

My fingers are scrolling down to Nate’s new name—Never Again—and I’m hitting call before I can think things through.

“Good evening, my dear Autumn.” There’s a smile in his voice. “How’s your job search going these days?”

“Fuck you, Nate.”

“If you’d done that a few more times instead of trying to divorce me, perhaps you wouldn’t find yourself in this position,” he says. “It’s sad to see, really.”

“Is this how you’re spending your time these days?” I ask. “Sending out ‘Don’t Hire My Ex-Wife’ memos to every company in the city?”

“First of all, you’re not my ex-wife yet.”

“That’s the only thing I’ll ever be to you.”

“Second of all,” he says, letting out a soft laugh. “I may have had Ricky send out memos to every hotel in this county, but that was light work. Ten minutes at most.”

My fingers grip the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turn red.

“As far as the ‘Don’t Hire’ memos, I only sent them to places where you’d qualify. It’s not like there are that many.”

He beats me to my next line. “By the way, I wouldn’t bother showing up to your second interview at that nanny agency tomorrow. Unless you just feel like driving fifty miles for no reason. Is that how you want to spend your time?”

Silence.

“I’m truly impressed by your pettiness, though.” He continues his one-sided conversation. “I never knew that you and I had this vein of ruthlessness in common.”

“Our last thing in common will be signing the divorce papers.”

“Oh, I definitely plan to do that,” he says. “But I’m taking my time. I have to make sure that I hurt you as much as you’ve hurt my reputation these past few weeks.”

“What makes you think that I’m done?”

His raspy laughter grates my nerves like sandpaper. “I’m curious. What address did you use to register your secret little car?”

I swallow the answer.

“Oh, I see,” he says. “It’s not legally registered at all, is it?”

“Nate—”

“The county sheriff is the father of my favorite college roommate.” He pauses. “I’ve been meaning to sit down and have a catch-up conversation with him for a while now.”

“Stop…” I hate that he’s not even attempting to veil his threats. “We don’t love each other anymore, Nate. We haven’t loved each other in a very long time.”

“I do love you, Autumn.”

“Well, I’ll never feel the same. You’re a cheater and a liar.”

“That has nothing to do with me loving you,” he says, his voice as cold as it was on the night that was supposed to be our finale. “That’s the reason I continued to take care of you. I meant it when I said for better or worse.”

“But the ‘forever faithful’ part meant nothing?”

“If you come home by tonight, I won’t embarrass you in court.” His voice is deadpan. “We can forget this ordeal ever happened. And maybe with time, I can forgive you for all the childish things you’ve done. If you apologize, I’ll even…”

The rest of his words whir into the sound of my windshield wipers, forcing me to see that I’ll have to do better moving forward.

I’d never prepared for another performance with this man. I thought I’d locked up our failing theater for good.

“Are you there, Autumn?” he asks. “What do you think about stopping this game you’re destined to lose?”

“I think you can save us both the time and write me a check for half of everything. And I’ll try not to embarrass you in court.”

“How very cute.” He sounds amused. “I’m trying to help you win here. You’re not as smart as me when it comes to things like this, Autumn.”

“You’re right,” I say. “I’m smarter.”