Page 66 of Wild and Wicked

Gianna lifted her hand. “Give me the key back, then get out. And don’t bother trying to get it from Mrs. Pasquet again. She won’t have it.”

Sam dug into his jean’s pocket and handed it to her. “Gianna, please. I…can we talk for a minute?”

She snorted derisively. “We already had that talk. Back in September, remember? I think it started with ‘this isn’t working for me’ and ended with ‘I don’t love you anymore.’ Of course, you somehow missed the part about Emma, which was probably the most import—”

She stopped mid-rant when she caught a whiff of something. “Are you cooking something?”

This time, Sam’s guilt was nearly palpable. “I brought food. Thought I’d make your favorite dinner. Lasagna and garlic bread.”

Her temper flared hot and fast. “Are you fucking serious right now?! You have five seconds to get the hell out of here or I swear to God, I’m calling the cops.”

“No!” Sam said hastily. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll leave. I just…” He ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck. I’m sorry. Okay? I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. For all of it. I was a grade-A douchebag, an asshole, a gigantic dick.”

“Keep going,” she said, crossing her arms.

She hadn’t meant her words as a joke, but Sam gave her a ghost of a smile, clearly taking them that way.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said softly.

She stared at him, at this man who’d been the center of her universe for eleven years, and she knew he was telling her the truth. He wasn’t a bad guy. He’d just done a very stupid, hurtful thing.

“I know that, Sam,” she said. “But you did hurt me.”

“I keep looking back, trying to figure out why I did it. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t find an answer.”

“You’re obviously not trying that hard because the answer’s pretty fucking obvious if you ask me. You let your dick do the thinking.” Gianna recalled Elio saying as much to her, then she realized he’d been right about Sam coming back. She didn’t know if Sam’s plan with this dinner had been simply to apologize or if he was trying to win her back, but Elio had told her he’d come groveling. And here he was.

Sam sighed heavily. “Yeah. I did. It’s just we’d been fighting so much, never managing to get through the week without some blow-up. And then, the firm took on Emma’s family as a client, designing their new office building, and—”

Gianna held up her hand. “Let me stop you right there. I have no desire to hash out any of this. It’s ancient history. Water under the bridge and all that shit.”

“I was just trying to explain where my head was. What was driving my actions.”

She shrugged. “I don’t care about any of that. I’ve moved on, Sam. None of this matters.”

Gianna wasn’t sure what he’d expected from her, but it was obvious he hadn’t foreseen this. Which pissed her off. Did he really think she was so weak or needy or stupid that she’d accept his apology, talk it out with him, and then…what?

They’d get back together?

Then she considered their past—brief—breakups and realized that was exactly how things had played out. Of course, there was a big difference between breaking up over petty fights about money or her cleaning issues or him staying out too late with the guys. He’d cheated on her and lied about it.

This wasn’t the same thing at all.

“Gianna, please. I need to find a way to make this right.”

She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

He looked at her as if waiting for her to change her mind. Oh my God. He really did think she was a pushover.

“You need to leave.”

Sam stood there, hesitant to go. She knew why. It was finally starting to sink in that she was serious, and this was his last chance to change her mind.

She gestured to the still-open apartment door, but he didn’t move. “I need to…I have some things I need to grab.”

She followed him to the kitchen, watching as he grabbed his cellphone from the counter. “I set the timer on the lasagna,” he said. “Should be ready in another forty minutes.”

She didn’t reply except to give him a single nod of her head. She was dumping the food in the trash the second he left.

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