Page 58 of A Million Times, Yes
I don’t know.
I wasn’t prepared for any of this to happen—for Jordan to come into my life, for me to have these feelings so quickly, for him to be a Worthington.
“I’m going to take today to breathe and see how I feel in the morning after I’ve gotten some actual sleep, hoping this all settles in my head.”
“Not a bad idea,” Bettie said.
“Maybe when I wake up, it’ll all make sense. Or maybe it won’t.”
Maybe I could somehow forgive him, or maybe I couldn’t.
The latter was what I feared.
“You’re a smart cookie, Maya,” Bettie said. “I don’t doubt you’ll know exactly what to do in the morning.”
My eyes narrowed as I looked at the beautiful woman lying in the bed. “I’d say you’re a pretty smart cookie, too, Bettie—and you certainly did something right in your life if you have hockey seats like those.”
“My Ernie loved hockey. He never wanted to miss a game. I still go on occasion, it’s just not the same without him.”
Emily rubbed Bettie’s hand. “You miss him.”
“More than words can even say.”
I let a few seconds of silence pass before I said, “I’m going to grab you some Gatorade, Bettie, and then I’ll be back to go over your meds.” She gave me a slight nod, and Emily followed me into the hallway. I waited until we were several rooms away before I turned to her. “There’s one major problem—one that Bettie doesn’t know about. But you do, and you’re not factoring that into this.”
She linked her fingers with mine as we faced one another. “I know.”
“I can’t”—I held in my breath as a wave of emotion passed through me—“I can’t let it go, Em. I can’t change who he is. I can’t see past it.”
Her head tilted to the side as she took in my face. “Oh, babe, I wish you could.”
Chapter Fifteen
Jordan
“She won’t fucking talk to me.” I gripped the frame around Gavin’s office door, squeezing it so tight, I expected the wood to rip off.
He looked up from his computer and crossed his hands in front of his keyboard. “You told her?”
“No.”
“Then how did you fuck this up?”
I walked inside, slammed the door behind me, and took a seat in front of his desk. “She found out on her own.”
“Oh shit.” He leaned back in his chair and tucked his palms behind his head. “This is about to get interesting. Go on.”
“She was at the game.”
His mouth dropped open. “You’re shitting me.”
“And she saw us walk out onto the ice. I’m assuming at that point, she googled my name, and you can guess the rest.”
“Did she text you from the game? Call you? Stop by your penthouse so she could tell you in person?” The motherfucker had the balls to smile.
I slid both hands into the sides of my hair, pulling at the strands. “She waited until this morning, when I met her for a run, and dropped the bomb in the middle of the sidewalk. She said a few things to me and took off. I’ve been texting her all morning and she won’t respond.”
“Did you apologize?”
