Page 203 of Holding On To Good

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Willow didn’t remember driving home, but she must have as she was now sitting in her driveway, her SUV in Park but still idling, her headlights illuminating her house.

She’d stopped crying at some point, but her mind still raced. And she couldn’t make herself get out of her car. She felt sluggish. Off-balance. The adrenalin that had gotten her this far had drained away, leaving her exhausted.

Tipping her head back against the seat, she shut her eyes. She was pathetic. Sitting there braless and barefoot because she hadn’t bothered putting on her shoes, just grabbed them and her purse before flying out of Urban’s back door. Pitiful with her tear-stained face, wild hair and body that smelled of sex.

Unable to even get out of her car because she didn’t want to face her dark, empty house.

She didn’t want to be alone.

Which was a problem as she didn’t want to be around anyone, either. Oh, she could text Lily and ask her to come over. Or seek out Hayden at the bar. She could Facetime Rose and Sarah, or even show up on her parents’ doorstep. Any of them—all of them—would be there for her without reservation. Without judgment.

She was in such bad shape, she doubted Lily would even toss out an I told you so.

Even though she had.

But Willow just… she couldn’t talk about it. Not yet. Talking about it would make it real. Sharing it, reliving it would hurt too much.

Accepting her loved ones’ sympathy, being on the receiving end of their comfort and care when she was this weak would break her.

No. Better to handle this alone. She’ll reach out to them tomorrow. When she’s not such an emotional wreck. When she has a clearer vision on how she’s going to move forward. When she’s stronger.

But first, she had to get through tonight.

Which might have been easier if she’d taken that bottle of wine Urban had offered to open for her in his attempt at getting her to stay. But she’d been in such a mad dash to escape his house, his words and anger and stubbornness, that she’d flown right by it without thought. Leaving it, and her laptop, on the counter.

Now she had to buy a new laptop and find another way to ease this unrelenting pain.

It was probably for the best. Drowning her sorrows in alcohol was what had started this whole mess in the first place.

A mistake she wasn’t about to repeat.

Besides, she had to keep her wits about her. Especially now when every inhale was hot and burning with shame and humiliation. Every exhale a shuddering explosion of pain and anger.

When she felt raw and exposed, as if she’d been ripped open. As if Urban’s words had been carefully aimed blows that’d left her bruised and aching.

Adding even one glass of wine to the vicious mix of swirling emotions churning in her gut was akin to tossing gasoline onto a bonfire.

God only knows what she’d do with a little liquid encouragement.

What she’d say if it fueled her anger.

How much she’d beg or what she’d promise if it numbed her doubts and fears.

Better not to take any chances.

The sound she made was half snort, half sob. She should’ve listened to that advice a month ago. Maybe then she never would’ve let Urban kiss her at the Lindstrom House. Maybe she never would have gone to his place after her date with Finn or their office the next day.

This was why she’d made sure everything was out in the open. Why she’d insisted on her rules. She’d made her thoughts and concerns perfectly clear. And while he may not have agreed with them, he’d still given her his word that he wouldn’t let anything ruin their friendship.

Damn it, he wasn’t supposed to ask for more.

And he didn’t get to take back his promise just because he was facing an empty nest, an unknown future and, for the first time in his life, possible loneliness.

He didn’t get to use her like that.

She wasn’t someone he could settle for because he was too scared or lazy or just plain complacent to put himself out there with someone else.

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