Page 49 of Pulled Away

“Think about it, Ryan. We were so young when we got married. I was happy. I knew you were it for me. But you weren’t ready, and I was scared you’d end up hating me because of it. So I agreed. I knew you needed to live a little bit, so I left, giving you time and space to do that until you were ready to settle down. I never had any doubt that when you were ready, you’d come back to me.” Her eyes are pleading, begging me to understand.

“I feel like I don’t know you,” I say in disbelief, unable to comprehend her actions.

She rushes forward and grabs my hand, placing it on her chest. “You do know me, Ryan. You’ve been my best friend almost my whole life.”

“I don’t,” I say, flinging her grip off and taking a step back. “If I was your best friend, you’d want what was best for me. Not this,” I spit out, gesturing at her towel-clad body.

“I’m what’s best for you! Don’t you realize? You’ve been choosing me every day since I got into town. It comes naturally to you. To us. What does that tell you?” she cries, and before I can stop her, she drops her towel.

I spin around. “Put some fucking clothes on,” I bellow, reaching up and fisting my hair. How could I have been so blind? So stupid? There’s rustling behind me, but I keep staring at the wall, my thoughts roughly 3,200 miles away. Fuck, I’ve been a fool. I jump when a hand touches my back, and spin around, backing up.

“Don’t touch me.” She visibly flinches at the coldness in my voice.

“Ryan, please.” A tear rolls down her cheek, and a few days ago, even yesterday, it would have moved me, but now I feel nothing. “I love you and I know you love me,” she says with a sob. “Please, just give us a chance. It used to be so good between us. It can be, again.”

My head’s shaking before she’s even done talking. “I did love you. As a friend. Now…now your manipulation and my stupidity have cost me everything.” The words hurt, but every single one of them is true. Not only have I lost someone who I’ve always thought of as my best friend, but this sick feeling tells me I’ve lost the only woman I have truly loved.

I need to get out of here. I need to get back home, throw myself at Aspen’s feet, and beg for forgiveness. Grabbing my suitcase, I turn to the door, but Hadley’s there, blocking it.

“Get out of my way.”

“Don’t go,” she whispers, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Stay, please. I don’t want to lose you.”

I shake my head. “You’ve already lost me. I will never forgive you for your lies and manipulation. Please, get out of my way.” Clenching my fists, I wait for her to move. I don’t want to touch her because I’m scared of what I’ll do in anger. Everything is screaming at me to get out of here. To get back home to Aspen.

Her shoulders drop in defeat and a sob rips out of her, but she steps to the side. Outside the door, I pause.

“When you get back, don’t try to see me. Don’t call me. It would be better if you went straight back to London.” I don’t look at her while I say this. I can’t.

Chapter eighteen

Aspen

Put on some clothes, Hadley.

You still sleep on the left side of the bed, right?

The words are a refrain playing on an endless loop in my mind.

Powering down my phone, I throw it on the couch, not caring where it lands. Clutching my shot glass, I head to the kitchen. Fuck the glass. Tonight is a straight-out-of-the-bottle kind of night. I’m going to drink until I don’t feel anything.

When I messaged Piper, saying I’d be a bit late because I was moving in with Carter, I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting a knock on the door an hour later, and for my friends to be on the other side, arms full of alcohol. Even Rose. She cannot stand Carter, but she came. For me. That was stupid of me. I should have known because that’s just the type of friends they are.

Carter wouldn’t hear my apologies, brushing it off by saying he was always down for a party. I think he was secretly relieved to have backup—not to have to put up with my mopey face on his own.

I grab the bottle of tequila and chug down a few mouthfuls, shuddering with every swallow.

“That bad?” Maya asks, startling me. I was so lost in my misery, that I didn’t notice her walk up.

“Just friends, my ass,” I mutter, wiping my lips and taking another swig. “Get this. They’re sharing a room.”

“What the fuck?” Hearing Maya swear is so jarring, I giggle. She doesn’t swear. Ever. I giggle again, which turns into a hiccup.

“Oh, and that’s not all.”

“What’s not all?” Rose asks, sliding up next to Maya and frowning at the bottle of tequila I’m hugging against my chest. Too bad. This bottle is mine, and I don’t intend to share it. I had no control over having to share my boyfriend, but this, this I can control.

Rose has been subdued all night, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s here—in Carter’s house—or because she’s pissed at her brother.

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