Page 36 of My Damaged Protector

Something tells me if I push further she'll tell me, but I decide not to.

I pour her more wine until the bottle is half gone, then I start to drink from the bottle. We remain in silence for a while, my mind doing an active job of trying to figure out what could be wrong with her.

But I can’t come up with anything.

“Did you ever regret leaving me?”

Her question comes out of nowhere. I'm momentarily short of words. Then a thought occurred to me.

As if she can read it, she shakes her head. “No, me crying wasn't about you.”

Oh, good. I don't know how I would feel about myself if she had said otherwise.

We fall into silence again before she speaks, prompting me to answer her question.

“So?”

I scratch my jaw as I mull over her words. Did I regret leaving her?

I mean, a lot has happened since the last time we were together, and she's doing so much better now. Who knows if she ever would have gotten to where she is in life now if I had remained a part of her life?

I don't want to tell her yes, because that would be a lie. Saying no wouldn't be right either, because I can't say I haven't thought about the possibility of never letting her go a couple of times.

“I don't know,” I say honestly. “You do seem better off without me though,” I offer as a consolation.

She nods at my words, a strained laughter escaping her.

I try not to be bothered by that because I know she's going through a lot right now. Whatever brought her to my door must have been pretty serious.

I badly want to ask her again, but I don't like it when people pressure me, so I tend to not do so to others.

“You're the reason I started writing, you know?”

The title of the book I saw at the café comes back to me, and I force myself to suppress a groan.

Oh boy.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, pretending to not be feeling like a total shit on the inside right now.

“Yeah,” she says and goes silent again.

Soon, her voice comes again, quiet yet emotional. “After you left, I wrote down about a thousand words expressing how yourdisappearance made me feel. A friend at the time found out and published it without my knowledge. It went viral, and that's how I picked up writing. People wanted more from me, I guess. And I do love to write, so…” She trails off, shrugging.

The emotion behind her every word pierces through me. It's like a needle poking at my heart, but I refuse to make this about me.

“I'm glad you're doing well, Sarah,” I say.

She glances at me, a smile coating her face. “Yeah, me too.”

This time when we fall into silence, it's a comfortable one. Although there's still so much left unsaid between us, there's a level of peace that flows at her confusion.

Then the drink is finished and she stands up, her eyes telling me goodbye.

Of course.

“Teri told me you're leaving,” she says.

I vaguely remember the manager earlier telling me her name is Teri.

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