Page 32 of What If I Hate You

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She glances sideways, probably weighing whether I’m worth the effort. Then she gives me a tight smile that doesn’t touch her eyes. “I’m actually mid-conversation.”

Michelle starts to get up. “We were just?—”

“We weren’t,” she cuts in, eyes still locked on me.

I rub the back of my neck again, heat crawling up the sides of my face. I feel huge and stupid and completely exposed. “Please,” I say. “It’ll just take a minute.”

There’s a long pause and then she rises, smooth as ever, brushing imaginary lint from her blazer. “Excuse me Michelle. I’ll just be a minute.”

Michelle nods and then Blakely follows me into the hall without a word, arms crossed over her chest like a goddamn barrier.

“Well?”

I turn to face her. “I was outta line last night.”

Her eyebrows lift. “Yes. You were.”

Fuck. I deserve that.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I rush out. “I was…fuck, I don’t even know what I was, but I let it get out of hand.”

She doesn’t blink. “You called me the token bitch, Barrett. I don’t really care how you meant it.”

My stomach turns. She’s not yelling. Not emotional. Just…done.

“You’re right,” I mutter. “I fucked up. You didn’t deserve that. I…I lost my temper.”

“You did.” She gives me that same polite, unreadable smile. “And I appreciate the apology.”

That’s it?

“That’s it?” I say before I can stop myself. “That’s all you’ve got?”

She tilts her head slightly. “What else do you want? A hug?”

God, I want more than that. I want a damn time machine. I want to rewind to the moment I opened my mouth and punch myself in the face.

“I didn’t want to make it personal,” I say, voice lower now. “But with you, it…it is personal. It always has been.”

Her expression doesn’t change, but I swear something flickers in her eyes—just for a second—then it’s gone.

“And that’s your problem,” she says, calm as ever. “Not mine.”

She turns and walks back into the dining room like I never touched a nerve at all.

And I just stand there, alone in the hallway, every breath loud and heavy in my chest.

I fucked up.

Not just with her.

Withwhoshe is. What she deals with. What I should’ve respected from day one.

And now?

I’m going to have to earn my way back from this.

One inch at a time.