Page 104 of The Love You Win

Alex sighs, and shaking his head, he closes the distance between us. He leans against my desk and holds the coffee out to me. “It’s a mocha. Your favorite.”

All I can do is stare at the man I gave so many years to. So. Many. Years. “Mocha isn’t my favorite.”

Alex’s frown deepens. The skin between his eyebrows puckers. “Yes it is.”

“No,” I say with a harsh bark of laughter. “It’s really not. My favorite is a flat white with two pumps of vanilla. That’s been my favorite since freshman year of college.”

“Come on, Isles.” Alex sets the cup of coffee down and rolls his eyes. As if I’m being unreasonable. As if he’s put out.

That look used to make something inside of me shrivel. He’d level it at me, and I’d curl in on myself. I couldn’t understand why I seemed to frustrate him so much.

Now, I can’t understand why I didn’t walk away. How did I let myself stay with this man for so long, let alone get to the point that we were engaged and two weeks away from being married? Did he really break me down so effectively that I lost the ability to see what was so obvious to my best friends?

Alex was never right for me. He was never good enough for me. And he sure as hell never loved me.

It makes me sad for the woman I used to be. And angry. I twisted myself into a pretzel to make him happy, and he couldn’t even bother to memorize my favorite coffee.

“You’ve got thirty seconds to get to the point, then you’re going to leave. I’m at work, Alex. This isn’t the time or the place. Not to mention the fact that I have a boyfriend. It’s beyond inappropriate for you to show up here.”

“Oh, please.” Alex scoffs. “The hockey player? You’re serious?”

“Deadly,” I growl. “Twenty seconds.”

He rolls his eyes again. “Fine. Just hear me out, okay? Please?”

The confusion and irritation I was feeling earlier turns molten in my belly. It bubbles like lava, ready to spill over. To erupt. I want Alex to leave. Seeing him at the coffee shop was bad enough. But to have him show up at my job? I’m pissed. I want to scream.

But I’m at work. I can’t scream.

Cracking my neck, I level my ex with the coldest expression I can muster. “Fine. Speak.”

MADDOX

Unease has been eating away at me all morning. I messed up on Saturday. I should have taken Isla to the damned fall festival. I was so worried about how everyone else might make her feel like shit, I didn’t realize that my actions would have the same effect.

I tried to make it up to her. I really did. I held her all night, made her breakfast in bed on Sunday, and made her come several times. I’ve done everything I can think to reassure her that I’m all in. Because I am. And I’m terrified she’s pulling away.

So I picked up an order of her favorite Thai noodles and a Thai iced tea, bought her the most expensive and exotic bouquet of flowers I could find, bribed her teacher friend LaTonya to let me in the school, and now I’m going to spend Isla’s lunch hour with her.

And I’m going to tell her how I feel about her.

Maybe professing my love at Isla’s school isn’t the most romantic way to do it, but I can’t wait. I don’t want to wait. We’ll be apart for almost a week after this, and the idea of getting on the plane without telling her makes my insides squirm. I need her to know that I love her. I need her to know that, no matter how many miles separate us, she’s it for me. Maybe it’s too soon, maybe it’s crazy. I don’t care.

I’m in love with Isla Harding.

There’s a stupid grin on my face as I reach the last corner before her classroom. I open my mouth to tell her I’m here so I don’t startle her when I show up unexpectedly, but the words get stuck in my throat when I hear her speaking in hushed tones to someone. I hang back, waiting to turn the corner because I don’t want to interrupt her conversation. She could be speaking with a student, and the last thing I want is to make a scene.

“Just hear me out, okay?” a male voice says. His tone is pleading. “Please?”

There’s a beat of silence before Isla replies, “Fine. Speak.”

I hold my breath as the male voice begins to speak again. A voice I’ve heard before. My grip tightens on the flowers.

“Look, I know I screwed up, okay? I lost sight of what was important.”

Isla scoffs. “And that was?”

There’s a soft shuffling, followed by a sigh. “You, obviously. I’ve been thinking a lot about how things ended between us, and I’ve realized some things. I messed up, sweetheart. I got so lost in all the dinners and schmoozing and I lost sight of us. You always supported me, babe. I can see that now. You always put me first. You took such good care of me, and I took that for granted.”

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