Page 47 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

Jamie started and twisted around to look at her. His lips parted but he said nothing.

She jabbed a finger at him. “Wait there.”

Less than a minute later, she strode across the sidewalk, heart lodged in her throat. Jamie was rooted to the same spot, hands jammed in his pockets, his expression a mixture of apprehension and melancholy. It was all wrong, the distress in his eyes, and it brought her anger down a notch.

Hank stood beside him, tail wagging, and she gave him a gentle pat of acknowledgment before focusing on Jamie. “You broke up with her?” She tried to minimize the accusation in her tone, but his widened eyes said she was only partly successful. “Why? How could you do that?”

Did he deserve to be interrogated? No.

Was this any of her business? Probably not.

But the guilt simmering just beneath the surface didn’t care. Certain she was some kind of homewrecker, she took it out on him.

He said nothing, though his eyes darted across the grass to several other people hovering around the dog park. An older couple slowly made their way toward where he and Elliott stood. He cleared his throat. “Could we, um, maybe go somewhere else to talk about this?”

She sighed and hesitated only a beat before nodding toward her building.

“Okay if Hank comes up?” Jamie asked quietly as she turned on her heel.

She didn’t look back and walked to the entrance. “Yeah.”

The elevator ride was awkward and silent. Hank seemed to sense the tension and remained close to Jamie’s side as they made their way down the hall. Once inside her apartment, she crossed her arms and faced him.

His posture was stiff, a far cry from his usual confident stance as he took in her living room.

Her apartment seemed smaller with him inside. Her reckless heart flickered through the possibilities she’d imagined the first few days living in Omaha—possibilities Jamie might someday be in this space for her. On her couch, in her kitchen, in her bed ...

All before she’d met Carly. Before she knew who he belonged to.

This time, her voice was barely above a whisper. “Please tell me you didn’t break up with her because of me.”

His eyes slid closed for a beat, chest rising and falling beneath his gray T-shirt. “I can’t.”

“Because of what Tiffany said?”

He slowly ran a hand through his hair, leaving it in disarray. His eyes were tired, dark circles underneath. A small piece of her heart went out to him. Most of her concern lay with Carly, but this wasn’t easy on him, either.

“That was ...” He pressed his lips together, and his eyes briefly rose to the ceiling as if he didn’t have the right words to say. “Beyond what I could handle.”

Her throat closed up, and she took several steadying breaths.

“Did you tell her? About ... us? That you’re the guy?”

Something flared in his eyes when she saidus. A traitorous part of her relished the word, too.

There is nousin that sense. There can’t be.

“No.”

She expected a wave of relief, but none came. Even if Carly didn’t know Elliott was the reason for her ruined relationship, she was the reason all the same. Carly’s heartache and tears were Elliott’s fault.

“Maybe I should have,” he continued. “I don’t know. This whole situation was just ... I didn’t see it coming. I didn’t expect to still—” He stopped himself, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “I just couldn’t continue on like that. It wasn’t right and she deserves better.”

What had he stopped himself from saying? Continue on likewhat?

Something told her the answers would make this a thousand times harder, so she asked something else instead. “Is Carly okay?”

She watched his face carefully, and strangely, that question seemed to relax him a little. “Breaking up is never fun, but we’ve been friends a long time. She texted me this morning, asking about some dying plants in her neighbor’s backyard, so I’d say we’re fine. She’s fine.”

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