Page 65 of The Locksmith's Promise

He was right here.

Offering me everything I ever wanted.

In less than a second, I could be in his arms.

Without a doubt, I knew he’d open them to me.

Was it possible he truly didn’t remember? Was it possible nothing happened?

There was no way to know for sure. How could I trust him when I didn’t have all the facts?

And yet, we had no choice but to move on. One way or another.

He rubbed his palms down his long, denim-clad thighs. “Thank you for lending me Corwin’s baby album.”

I gulped, regret for my own part in our mess near choking me.

What if I’d have stayed?

What if I’d demanded an explanation back then when things were fresh? What if Jenny had an explanation for everything?

I shied away from the idea of talking to her.

Having her verify he slept with her would finish me in ways I couldn’t imagine.

“We can make copies of anything you want. All of them, if you want,” I offered.

He dipped his chin in acknowledgement then peeked up at me. “Can I ask you a question?”

I smiled wryly. “It seems to be the night for them.”

He huffed out a soft laugh. “Why did you choose the name Corwin?”

I smiled and inhaled deeply. This was something I could give him, freely and joyfully, without betraying myself.

“It means heart’s friend, and that’s what you were to me.” My voice shook. “That’s what made him.”

He dropped his chin. “I don’t deserve the grace you’ve given me.”

I shook my head. “No, Bax. The truth is, you’ve always deserved more than you got. Maybe I should have stayed, given you a chance to explain.”

“I don’t blame you for losing faith in me.”

“I never lost faith in you,” I denied. “I lost faith in us. Bax,” I began hesitantly. “Do you want to talk to her about it?”

My pulse throbbed in my throat. The last thing I wanted was for Baxter and Jenny to have a heart-to-heart.

There could never be a time we’d all go back to being friends. Not after everything that happened between us.

He set his empty mug on the coffee table and sat back. The lines around his mouth settled into deeper grooves.

“I just want to leave the nightmares of the past in the past. Where they belong.”

It was a good sentiment, a safe choice. But my body wouldn’t allow my pain to be so easily swept under the rug.

The words stung my throat. And the more I tried to hold them in, the hotter they burned.

“I called you,” I accused. “I called you every day for weeks. You never picked up.”

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