Page 73 of Wish I Didn't Want You Back

He tilted his head to the side. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

He stepped into the living room, his eyes sweeping over the bare floors, patched walls, and paint cans scattered around. “If you were having second thoughts, you should have said something. We could have worked something out.”

He was probably right, but it wouldn’t have changed anything. I wasn’t going through with it, no matter how much pressure he and my father put on me.

“You wouldn’t have listened to me. You would have tried to convince me to stay.”

“How do you know? You never gave me the chance.”

He was wrong, I did know. He would have said all the right things, reminded me of how much the merger benefited our families. He would have made it sound reasonable and logical. He would have made me feel small for even questioning it.

“I felt suffocated. I needed to get away and clear my head.”

He looked down at my outfit, clearly not thrilled with my messy, unkept look.

“You disappeared. Left me standing there, fielding questions from our friends and family that I couldn’t possibly answer. You have been here for weeks, and I haven’t gotten a single fucking phone call! Weeks, Harlow!”

“Watch it,” Brooks said, crossing his arms and reminding us both that he was standing right there.

“You stay out of this,” he snapped.

“Baz,” I said softly, hoping to bring the tension down in the room. “I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way, but I knew if I expressed my concerns, you still would have pressured me to follow through with the plan.”

He inclined his head to the side. “Is that supposed to be an apology?”

Brooks chuckled beside me, and I shot him a death glare. “After what you and her father put her through, I’d say it’s more of an explanation than you deserve.”

Baz flicked his gaze to Brooks, his eyes scanning him from head to toe. He was aware of our history. I never hid that from him. He always knew what Brooks was to me and never liked the idea that another man owned my heart. Not that he wanted it for himself. He simply didn’t like anyone or anything standing in his way.

His frustration was obvious with how he shoved his hand through his hair. “Your father is furious. We had an agreement.”

“I realize that, but I did us both a favor. We weren’t marrying for the right reasons.”

He looked away like he didn’t want to admit that I was right. “And yet you still said yes when I asked you.”

I hung my head because he had a point. But knowing it and accepting it were two different things. When I woke up that morning, it finally dawned on me what my future would look like, so I ran.

Straight down the church steps, where hundreds of guests were waiting inside.

“I did say yes, but then I realized I was being exploited, and I didn’t want to be a pawn in whatever sick, twisted game our fathers were playing. I wanted more for myself.”

“Harlow, don’t stand here and play the victim card. You knew the rules when you agreed to the terms.”

He tried to step closer, but Brooks stopped him. “I don’t think so, pal.”

My ex shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “This is fast, even for you, Harlow.”

I winced because, yeah, that last one got me. “I didn’t plan this. It just happened.”

He scoffed. “That’s all you have to say?”

I rubbed my temples. This was an absolute nightmare, and I was standing right in the middle of it.

“I didn’t leave you standing at the altar so I could run straight back to him. That’s not what happened. I ran from the church because it felt wrong and I couldn’t go through with it.”

He dragged a hand down his face. “You should have been an adult and talked to me. We could have figured something else out. Marrying me wasn’t supposed to feel like a death sentence.”

---