Page 112 of The One I Want
I shoot a glare to Simon. “It’s not like that.”
“Then tell us what it is, dear friend,” he says. “Because what I’m hearing right now is you thinking, like you like to do, that you know what’s best for everyone.”
“I’m not assuming,” I defend. “She wasn't thinking about the future. Her future. I didn’t want her to have any regrets.”
“Speaking of regrets,” Simon says, his eyes trailing somewhere behind me for a second before he continues. “I don’t have many. But I do have one, and it’s not telling you what a money-hungry bitch Cara was. We all agreed to keep our mouths shut because you seemed happy. Well, guess what? I’m going to speak now. Only this timeyou’rebeing the little bitch.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we didn’t do anything to save you from your first wife. But I am going to try and save you from being miserable for the rest of your life. Betsy is it. You’re not going to do better than her. If you fuck this up, her future will be fine. It’s your future that’s going to be alone and miserable.”
“But her future is what I’m trying to save!”
“Is she not a part of your future?”
I look over to Shane. “What did you say?”
He leans his elbows on the table. “I said, before this fight, was Betsy not part ofyourfuture?”
“Of course she was.”
“Then why can’t you be part of hers?”
I sit for a second and let that resonate with me. “Because…”
“Because nothing,” Oliver says. “You love her. She loves you. You two are both part of each other’s futures. But because you thought you knew what was best, now that future is in jeopardy.”
He stands and changes seats to the one next to me. “She loves you Wes. She loves the kids. She’s the kind of woman you hope to fall in love with one day. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but don’t push that away. Some of us look for this kind of love our entire lives. You have it. And now look at it.”
Oliver nods to the dance floor as he stands up and makes his way to the bar. I hear Simon yell something to someone as he walks away. But I can’t seem to give two shits what my friends are doing. Because through a sea of people on the dance floor, all I can see is Betsy, dancing with my ex-teammate Dexter.
“Fuck no!” I yell, slamming my hands on the table as I stand up. Before I can get anywhere I feel Shane’s hand on my arm, pulling me down.
“No,” Shane says. “You did this. You pushed her away. That could be you. So you can’t be pissed about this. Want it to be different? Then you need to fix it.”
All I can do is glare at the dance floor, watching Betsy and Dexter’s every fucking move. That fucker better not let a hand slip or he won’t have anything to catch footballs with next year.
Out of all the fucking guys here tonight, she’s dancing with Dexter? The manwhore of the Fury? He’ll fuck any woman in front of him and not think twice about it.
This is it. This is my worst nightmare. This is the thought I had at the bar all those months ago. Betsy in the arms of another man. Smiling at him. Making him feel like he’s the only one in the room. I see her laughing right now at something Dexter said. He’s not funny. It has to be fake. But even if it is, she’s making him feel like he could conquer the world.
I remember that feeling. I’ve never felt anything like it in my entire life.
That should be me. I should be holding her. I should be feeling her against me. I should be making her smile. I should be kissing her and making her promises for the night.
Fuck. I fucked up. I fucked up so damn bad.
“Shane?”
“Yeah?”
“I need to fix this.”
He takes a sip of his drink before answering. “No shit, Sherlock.”
Chapter40
Betsy
