Page 123 of The Perfect Mistake

“Connie?”

“Yes.”

“It was hard. Really freaking hard.”

His eyebrows pull down low. “Was she angry?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it was at me specifically. More at the situation. That we hadn’t told her… that it was such a surprise.”

“She was angry at me,” he says dryly.

I look up at him. “Really?”

“Yeah. Came into my office earlier today to tell me I’m not allowed to hurt you. It wasn’t a very productive conversation.”

“I’m sorry about that,” I whisper.

He sighs. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. Nothing about this is.”

I shift closer, our legs resting against one another. “You look tired.”

“It’s been a long day.” His eyes are heavy on mine. “She told me that you said this isn’t serious.”

My heartbeat speeds up. “Yeah. I said that.”

“Is that how you feel?”

I close my eyes. “Alec,” I murmur, “that’s what you’ve told me. I can’t keep trying to play catch-up.”

His thumb strokes up along my cheek, tipping my head back. The tension between us grows with every second that ticks by.

“I haven’t been fair to you there either,” he finally says. There’s frustration in his voice. “I’ve tried over and over again to stop thinking about us, and I can’t. It’s fucking impossible. So, you’ll have to be the one who walks away, because I can’t do it. Not even when it’s in your best interest.”

“My best interest?” I say. “Being with you is in my best interest.”

He shoots me a dark look. “Isabel.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Isabel,” he repeats, like my name pains him. “Because you’re meant for greater things. For men your own age, for trips across the world, for new job opportunities. I want you in my bed, but I know you don’t belong there. There are a thousand reasons why. A thousand and one. Because I doubt your parents will approve of a man my age. Because I have two kids, and you’re too young to be a stepmother. I’m torn over time as it is and there’s never enough of it to do things right. And I’m shit at this… relationships, feelings, connection.

“But I’ve also never felt like this before, and that’s why I can’t walk away. God help me, I want us. But wanting doesn’t mean I’m going to be perfect at this. At us. And I can’t bear it if I’m less than what you deserve.”

I shake my head. “But I don’t want perfect. I’ve spent twenty years trying to attain it, and I’m done with that. I want a happy medium.”

He runs a hand over his face. “A happy medium.”

“Yes. Do you want perfect? Is that what this is about? Because if you’re comparing me and what we might have to what you had before, I can’t… I can’t live up to that.”

His eyes flare. “What do you mean?”

“Your wife. Your marriage.” I wrap my arms around my chest and power through the rest of it. “I can only be who I am. If you’re thinking that I’m not mature enough, or that I’m not… some powerful businesswoman or a high—”

“Isabel,” he says. “I don’t compare you to Victoria.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I’ve tried… fuck. She is my past, always will be, but she has nothing to do with what’s between us now. I can’t believe you’d think that.”

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