Page 18 of Every Promise Broken

That’s just lovely. Truly, the last thing I need, on top of all my other stuff, is this.

Love that for me.

9

Whit Bowman

“Maddy, can you run out to my truck and grab the buns? They should be on the seat in the back.”

Nodding, Maddy smiles. “Sure thing, boss. Be right back.”

Internally cringing at her calling me “boss,” I smile back. “Thanks, Maddy.”

It’s an unusually warm Saturday afternoon, but it’s working in our favor today. Standing where I’m the most comfortable, at the grill, I flip the burgers and the dogs as I watch everyone mull around farther out in the yard. Every year around this time, I host an annual company party before winter hits, where we all get together and eat, play games, and bond as colleagues.

Truthfully, it’s way out of my comfort zone, and by the end of the day, I’ll be exhausted and mentally drained, but I have to admit, it always ends up being a good time. We all spend so much time together during the week at work, that get-togethers like this are nice for morale.

Tasha is out in the yard playing corn hole with her husband and Clint, my other technician, and Maddy’s kids are playing on the bounce house that I rented, seeming to have a grand old time. I smile to myself as I watch them. The endless amounts of energy they have, the way they find joy in just about anything. Kids amaze me. I’ve never wanted to have any of my own, but I still love having them around. I’m patiently waiting for some of my friends to finally have a few so I can spoil them.

“Here you go, Dr. B.” Maddy sidles up next to me, setting the hot dog and hamburger buns on the tray beside the grill. “Also, look who I found in the parking lot.”

Turning my head to the side to see who she’s referring to, my heart sinks down into my stomach as my gaze connects with Reggie’s.Shit, what is he doing here?His lips curve up as he approaches me, taking Maddy’s spot as she walks off.

“Hi, babe,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“Uh, hi.” My pulse pounds in my ears as I’m taken aback by his presence. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

He winces, and I instantly feel bad. “You invited me,” he replies softly.

And he’s right, I did invite him when I first started planning this event a few months ago. He came last year, so I suppose it’s not that far off that he’d come this year, too. But since I asked him to leave my house last week, we haven’t talked a whole lot, so I guess I assumed he wouldn’t come.

Guess that’s what I get for assuming.

“How have you been?” Reggie asks when I don’t say anything.

“Oh, um, good. Busy,” I add because I feel like a jackass. “How have you been?”

My palms are sweating, and it’s uncomfortable. This entire interaction is uncomfortable. It feels like we’re strangers, not a couple who’s been together for multiple years.

Since my appointment with Dr. Smizor the other day, I’ve been thinking nonstop about what we talked about. About the way I sought out comfort from Conrad, the way I admitted without realizing it that I wouldn’t have done the same if it were Reggie there with me. That appointment was eye opening, but it wasn’t until a couple of days later that the gravity of it hit me. The truth of it.

And the truth is, I don’t think I want to be with Reggie. I don’t think I’ve been emotionally invested in this relationship for a long time. It sounds silly if I think too hard about it because, on the surface, there’s nothing wrong with our relationship. Reggie is great; he’s nice, sweet, caring. We don’t fight. But I’m not in it. I don’t look at him in the same light I viewed Conrad, and while logically I know that not every relationship willfeelthe same, I should still find comfort in my partner. I should still want to confide in my partner.

And I don’t.

“Good, but busy too,” he replies with a shrug. “Do you need any help with the food?”

“No, I got it,” I’m quick to say. “There’re drinks over in the coolers over there, and you can play some of the games or something while the food is cooking.”

It’s impossible to miss the disappointment on his face. My stomach twists. “Okay, but uh…” Reggie glances out into the yard for a moment before looking at me again. “Do you think we can set aside some time to talk later? Things have felt a little off lately, and I’d love to be able to connect with you.”

I nod, heart in my throat. “Yeah, of course.”

His eyes light up as a smile tugs at his lips. “Cool. I’m going to see if I can get in on this game of corn hole with Tasha.”

He runs over to them, and I watch him go, anxiety swirling. Tonight has to be the night. I have to end this because I can’t keep stringing him along just because I’m a coward who is allergic to confrontation. And it’s not even just about what happened with Conrad last month. It’s so much more than that, and that night was only the tipping point, and talking with Dr. Smizor was the nudge I needed to see it.

I’m not in love with Reggie. In the beginning, the first six or so months, I thought maybe Icould. One day. But that day never came. I care about him, of course, but caring about someone and being in love with them are two very different things. I’ve felt love. Felt the all-consuming, breathtaking masterpiece that is being truly and wholly in love.

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