Page 89 of Blindly Yours

“It’s fine, Junie,” I interrupt her with a comforting smile. “I don’t mind. It’s sweet.”

Junie sinks into her chair again and rubs her hand across her forehead. “It’s pointless. He doesn’t pay any attention to me. It’s just a silly crush. I’ve been trying to ignore it…” She looks at me again with pleading eyes. “Don’t youdaretell him.”

“You have my word.” I hold up my hands and shake my head. Junie’s a great catch, and I know she’d be good to George, but to be honest, I’m not sure how he would feel about dating someone who’s saving herself. I really don’t want to think about his sexual choices at all—cringe—but I’ve seen him go through his fair share of women. I doubt he’s the “waiting” type. And besides all that, Junie’s hardly the girl my parents would approve of. Sure, she works for the company, but she doesn’t come from money or status. That’s a prerequisite they have for all three of their children, but I actually don’t know if George cares.

Regardless, I smile warmly at Junie. “I would love nothing more than for you two to hit it off, but you’re going to have to say more than a few words to him if you want him to notice you.”

She shakes her head and lets out a small laugh. “And you know I’m not capable of that.”

***

“I’ve always loved that skirt on you…”

That voice.It makes my stomach drop and my jaw set. I hate that I still have to hear it. I hate that he won’t leave me alone.

I close my eyes, keeping my back to my office door as I sort through the files Junie and I organized earlier. “What do you want, Malcolm?”

“You.”

He says it so simply I almost don’t register his meaning. My hands pause on the papers in front of me and I slowly rotate to face him.

He stands with one hand shoved in his pocket, another holding a brown bag, and his head tilted just slightly, with a gentle—almost genuine—look in his eye. His auburn curls are crisp and neat, like he just stepped out of the shower moments ago, and his navy suit jacket pulls at his broad shoulders in a way I’m sure his tailor purposely altered it to, because it makes him enticing to me, even now.

But it’ll never be enough. Not anymore.

“You don’t get to have me.” I hold his gaze firmly and shake my head. “Not after what you did.”

He sighs with almost a smile and steps forward to place the bag on the desk. “I was stupid and young—”

“It was likesixmonths ago,” I interject.

He lets his smile fully break free like this is funny to him, then he pulls out the chair across from mine. “You know I wouldn’t have done it if I were thinking clearly. I was hammered.”

I raise a brow as he sinks into the chair. This is a new one. He’s never used alcohol to explain away his cheating. And I don’t buy it. “It doesn’t matter if you were stone-cold sober or twelve drinks in, Malcolm. Beer didn’t sleep with her.Youdid.”

Ignoring me, he opens the bag, pulls out two take-out bowls, and uncaps them to reveal their contents. The aroma hits me instantly. It’s the shrimp bisque from a little cafe on 8th. It’s insanely rich and decadent, so I hardly ever get it, but it’s my favorite dish in the city, and Malcolm knows that.

He slides the bowl toward me and places a plastic-wrapped spoon next to it. “Eat up, before it gets cold.”

With my jaw still set, I cross my arms and tap my foot. “I didn’t ask for lunch.”

“Yet, here it is.” He gestures to the spread.

“I don’t appreciate you just showing up unannounced like this. I’m not hungry and I didn’t invite you.” My stomach growls as I say it.

He takes a bite of his own and sits back casually. “You’re still just as stubborn. Sit down and eat your favorite soup, Rose.”

I glance at the hearty liquid which is sending a gentle steam into the air above it. My mouth waters and my knees give way as I sink into my own chair and begin to unwrap my spoon.

Malcolm speaks again. “Iamsorry, Rose. For what I did.”

I lift my eyes to his and find an attempt at true regret there, but I’m struggling to understand why he wants me back so badly. Our relationship was largely a disaster.

“I don’t think I fully grasped what I had when you were mine.” He sighs. “I didn’t treat you like I should have. I thought I could just coast through our relationship on autopilot because it started so easily. Those first few months with you…” He smiles like he’s remembering a perfect, long-lost love. “We were so happy, weren’t we?”

I drop my gaze to my soup again and stir my spoon through the bits of shrimp. In a way, he’s right. In the beginning, we were new and fresh and excited to be together. We were happy back then. I was happy…back then. Before I knew how happiness could really feel.

“Let’s find our way back to that,” he says softly. “I made the worst mistake of my life, and I regret it every day. Please give me another chance. I know you have it in you to give me a little grace.”

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