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Mr. Mayfair (Mister)

Page 87

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“I don’t want to make the same mistake again,” I said as Florence came up beside me. “I don’t want to be the fool who thinks her boyfriend’s in love with her and is the last to know I’m not the person he wants to marry.”

“You weren’t the last person to know. Everyone thought you and Matt would get married.”

“I didn’t want to read the signs wrong—think Beck was into me and then figure out it was just about sex. I need to be moving on, not having history repeat itself.”

“I get it. When Beck came along . . . You were still—”

“Reeling. From shock, betrayal, pain. I can’t go through it again. It’s time to move on,” I said, pulling back and nodding resolutely.

“I think that sounds perfect. And having seen you two together last week, I’d say Beck Wilde is the man to move on with.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just because I’m moving on doesn’t mean I have to jump the first guy who comes along.”

“Agreed. But don’t run away from a guy who might just be perfect for you because you’re scared. It’s understandable that you’re suspicious of him, but if you like him, you should give him a chance.”

“And what? Wait until he hurts me? Matt was right, looking back, there were signs he wasn’t thinking long term with me. I mean, why in the hell did he talk about marriage so much but always say it wasn’t the right time? I wasn’t even putting pressure on him to marry me and he always—”

“Don’t torture yourself by looking back. Just because you didn’t spot any so-called signs doesn’t mean you have joint culpability.”

“Matt thought it was more than joint. He thought the entire thing was my fault.”

“Well of course he did. He’s a spoiled, selfish child who doesn’t want to have to be accountable for his own actions.”

“But if I hadn’t been so clueless, I could have avoided being hurt.”

She tilted her head, challenging me without saying a word.

“Okay, maybe I was always going to get hurt,” I said. “But at least I wouldn’t have felt so freaking stupid.”

“I get that. But the only way to not risk being hurt is not to fall in love again. Beck, or whoever it is, won’t come with a cast-iron guarantee.”

“True,” I replied. “But at the same time, if the warning bells go off—”

“Your warning bells are on a hair-trigger at the moment.”

Maybe she was right. Perhaps I’d overreacted, but the fact was Beck wasn’t tearing down my front door, telling me how desperate he was to be with me.

“I want a man who really wants me. Who sees me as a prize. A guy who wants to convince me that we should be together.”

“Do you feel that way about Beck? Do you really want him? See him as a prize? It’s not just up to Beck. You need to decide what you want, and it can’t just be someone who likes you. I swear, you never asked yourself if you were happy when you were with Matt. You just carried on because that’s what he wanted. You’re always so focused on everyone else, you never stop to ask yourself what you want.”

It wasn’t the first time someone had described our relationship along those lines. “I did love Matt,” I said. “I would have left him if I hadn’t.”

“Really?” she asked. “Or were you just used to him, didn’t know any better and making the best of it?”

“I wanted to marry him,” I said. I wouldn’t have stayed with someone for seven years making the best of it. I’d thought we had a future together.

“You wanted to be married to him or you thought that’s what was next?”

“I loved him, Florence.”

She sighed. “I know I’m being harsh. I just want you to be happy. The next man in your life should be so special you can’t live without him. I don’t want you ending up with someone just because they pick you.”

Maybe Matt and I were no Anthony and Cleopatra, but I was happy. I took a breath, thinking back, trying to remember what being with Matt had been like. It was only months we’d been apart, but the memories were so hazy now. I had been happy but there was something missing. Being with Beck had showed me that. Beck listened to me, trusted me, took my advice. And I believed in him and thought he felt the same.

“There were things that weren’t right with Matt. And I probably did just go along with things. I wanted to make him happy.”

“But what will make you happy, Stella?” she asked.



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