“Mo, wait.” I grab her wrist, but she wrenches it away. What does she mean I made sure of that?
“No,” she shouts. “You’re a dick, Rhett. It’s something I learned the hard way six years ago. Sadly enough, I let myself believe maybe we had both changed, grown up a bit, and could move on from the past. But I can see you’re still a selfish prick, and I refuse to waste another minute worrying about you.”
I push up from my chair and step toward her. “You worry about me? Really, Mo? Were you worried about me when Char—”
She closes the distance and gives a nice solid shove to the center of my chest, knocking me off balance. “Don’t you dare throw that in my face.”
We’re both breathing heavily. Frustrated that I lost my cool, I run my fingers through my hair.
Mo blinks and then blinks again. “Everything was fine until you came back. Whatever this is, I can’t do it,” she says, her voice breaking.
Her eyes grow suspiciously glossy, and I swallow past a lump in my throat because the last thing I want to do is make Mo cry.
“No more, Rhett. I’ll drop the dogs off at Coop’s sometime after lunch tomorrow. I don’t want to see you again.”
One minute she’s here, and the next she’s walking out the door—and out my life for the second time.
Monroe
The last thing I expected to see this morning is Rhett sitting outside Animal Haven with a steaming cup of coffee. And there’s a white bag next to him with a familiar donut logo on the front, guaranteeing that whatever is in there will taste as delicious as he looks.
Last night was horrible. I didn’t sleep a wink. I spent the entire time tossing and turning, replaying our fight in my head. I kept coming back to the last thing I said to him.
“I don’t want to see you again.”
I’ve learned the hard way that tomorrow isn’t promised, and things can change in an instant. I would hate myself forever if something happened to Rhett and those were my last words to him. I was pissed, but I didn’t mean them. Rhett was once a big part of my life, and as much as I hate to admit it, I enjoyed seeing him yesterday.
“That for me?” I ask as I approach.
“That depends. You still mad at me?”
“If I tell you no can I have the coffee?”
Rhett takes a deep breath and looks at the cup in his hand.
I’ve seen a lot of emotions in Rhett over the years. When we were little, I saw him cry and scream, throw tantrums that were out of this world, and when we grew up I saw him laugh and goof off, and after we became intimate, I saw so much love and affection. But not once did I see this look. I’ve never seen regret on his face until now.
I take a step forward, and he looks up, his bright blue eyes swirling with apologies.
“You can have the coffee regardless, but I hope you’ll give me a chance to apologize. I don’t want you to be mad at me, Mo.” He hands over the cup.
I take it, blow across the top, and take a sip. “I’m listening.”
“I was an asshole last night. Despite how I feel about you and our past, I shouldn’t have acted like that.”
“What you said hurt me, but I said some hurtful things too.”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head and looks down. “Don’t apologize for what you said. You didn’t do anything wrong. Last night is all on me.”
“Apology accepted.” I take another sip of my coffee, wishing I had a shot of whiskey to throw in it. “Although I still feel terrible.”
My words hang in the air, floating around us while I try to decide if I should say more.
“Why do I have the feeling we’re talking about more than what happened last night?” he says, finally looking up at me.
The cup freezes on the way to my mouth. “Maybe we are talking about the past, and maybe you don’t know as much about it as you think you do.”
Rhett blows out a breath. “Mo, there are so many things we need to talk about.”