Page 145 of Inflame

“Regret.”

My word strikes him and in the moment, it makes me happy to lash out. He gives me the last word, and I walk out into the hallway and out the door. I call for the elevator and text Angie that I need to go out for the day. I hate leaving her alone when she obviously dislikes it. But I hate being around Nic Hoffman more right now, and getting away from him trumps everything.

Damn him.

I wish I could hate him more than I hate myself right now. But deep down, I am so disappointed in myself for believing that I am enough for a man to change.

Men don’t change.

They just hide their feelings until they blow up in their faces. Unfortunately, his explosive declaration hit me straight in the heart.

I keep falling into the same cycle over and over again. Maybe it’s not the man who needs to change? Maybe it’s me. I’m the one who is damaged and needs to be fixed.

42

CLAIRE

I’m not even inside the protection of my car when my phone buzzes to life. Leave it to Nic to want me now that I’ve walked away. Except, when I glance at the sender, it’s not from Nic at all. The messages are from Ethan, and some are time stamped hours ago.

Ethan: I need to talk to you.

Ethan: Ignoring me will have a cost.

Ethan: CALL ME DAMMIT

Fuck him.

I open the driver’s side door, fling myself inside, and toss my phone down onto the passenger seat. I hate Ethan.I really fucking hate him. Looking back, most of our relationship is now just a series of a bunch of regrets. He made me live in trash. He treated me like trash. He is trash.

And part of me blames Ethan for Nic becoming part of my unhappy ending.

If it wasn’t for Ethan being a horrible man, then I wouldn’t have allowed Nic to sneak his way into my life.

Sure, I learned lessons from both men, but those are lessons that people could go through life never learning—and still turn out fine. But instead, I carry around this mental burden of an ex-boyfriend who won't go away and a man who couldn’t get me to go away fast enough.

Why do I always pick the wrong men?

I left one bad relationship just to enter into a worse one. Without a doubt, Nic is most definitely the worst out of everyone I’ve ever dated. Nic befriended me, seduced me, and then gave me false hope for a future. I honestly wish he would have kept up with being an asshole for the duration of all our interactions.

It’s easy to hate the asshole.

It’s confusing to start to like the asshole that is jaded.

I thought I could fix Nic. That somehow, I held this unseen level of power—and responsibility. But he’s not my responsibility at all. He’s not my anything.

Then there’s Ethan. I thought I could ignore him, and that is proving not to be the case. His attention torments me and I’m tired of him preying over my shoulder—trying to taint everything in my life that he touches.

But today it stops.

Because if anything is going to change, that change has to start with me.

Opening up my search engine, I type in Ethan’s full name. Why I never thought to do this prior is a mistake on me. I give people the benefit of the doubt. I’m too trusting.

And just like that, I have the address for Ethan’s single-family home in the suburbs. It’s the house he hid from me and never wanted me to visit. I apparently deserved the fuck pad while Deena lived it up in the mansion.

I start my engine, flick off the radio, and settle into the silence that envelops me. Allowing the GPS to dictate where I’m going, I pull out of the parking garage and onto the street.

I’m done being controlled.

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