Page 103 of Crash and Burn
“Of course it was!” she snapped, then her lips trembled. “I should have known from the start there was no chance. I should have known he only cares about you.”
“He cares about you, too.” I had no idea why I was trying to comfort this girl, but she just looked so wretched.
“He used to care about me,” she said, stressing the past tense. “He doesn’t care about me now. He loved me back then. I thought that was enough. I thought if he realized how much I missed him, how much I needed him, he would take me back.”
“He did take you back.” I tried not to snap the way she had.
“No,” she said. “He didn’t. Even when we were together, he was never really with me. His mind was always off somewhere else. Probably thinking about you.” Her lips curled, then she sighed. “He tried, I’ll give him that,” she said quietly. “When I showed up after all this time I wasn’t sure he’d even give me the time of day. I thought he might throw me out. I was prepared for that. But he didn’t. He came with me, and listened to me, and comforted me, and stayed with me.” Her eyes went soft and distant. “He always was such a great guy.”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“If he was always so great, why did you rip his heart out years ago?” I asked.
“I didn’t love him,” she said simply. “Not the way he wanted me to.”
“And now?” I asked.
She looked at me sharply. Then her shoulders fell, looking defeated.
“No,” she said. “I guess not. I thought I did. Or at least, I thought I could. I needed someone, and Grant had always been there for me, and I thought…”
She thought she could just come back into his life and cry on him and he’d take her back.
And he had. Or, at least, I’d thought he had.
Alana looked down at her toes, her red eyes looking exhausted.
“I know he only stayed with me because he was trying to make up for the past,” she said. “I could tell he was never going to feel about me the same way he did back then. Too much time has passed. Too much has changed. We’ve changed.”
She lifted her eyes to stare at me.
“He was never going to be able to forget about you,” she said. “No matter how much I cried on him, no matter how many times I begged him not to leave, no matter how many times I told him I needed him. Things were never going to work out between us.”
Alana let out a heavy sigh and stood from where she’d been slumped against the pillar. She shook her long hair out and rubbed at her eyes.
“So, congratulations, I guess.” She gave me a vague wave of her hand as she began to walk off. “You get the guy in the end.”
“I don’t know if I do,” I said.
She turned back to glare at me over her shoulder.
“Of course you do,” she said. “Don’t be a stubborn idiot. He left me. He chose you. There’s no reason all three of us have to be miserable.”
Then she stalked off toward the exit.
It was oddly civil of her, essentially telling me to forgive the man who’s just dumped her.
I stood behind the pillar, thinking about what she’d just said.
She’d begged Grant not to leave her. The exact same thing I’d sworn to myself I’d never do. Maybe that was it. Maybe that was why he’d stayed with her. Maybe that was why he didn’t stay with me.
Alana had asked him to. I hadn’t.
"Excuse me, miss?" The art gallery director appeared at my side, popping up from behind the pillar, startling me. He made a tiny formal bow. "If you'll come with me please?" he asked.
"What's this about?" I asked.
"The artist has requested your presence," he replied.
