Page 7 of Yearning For Her

Willow had even stopped volunteering at the soup kitchen and animal shelter because she’d had to arrange her life around Eli’s availability. She’d loved those places, had loved helping people and animals. Throughout their relationship, she’d been dealing with the stress and exhaustion of running her own business and trying to build a clientele, yet she’d given every spare moment to him.

He never went out with Willow and Jamie, but he’d expected her to be fine hanging out with his friends. He’d gladly had sex with Willow in her bed, but rarely spent the night, and anytime she slept at his house she always felt like she was in his way the next morning as he hurried through his routine—until he inevitably hurried her out the door.

Eli had always picked the movies and shows they’d watched together. He’d chosen the restaurants and bars when they went out, he’d chosen the food when they’d ordered in. And her suggestions had always been ignored or brushed off with excuses.

God, how had she never realized how many excuses he’d spouted to justify his dismissal of her ideas, her interests, her wants and needs?

She’d just been wishing for that happily ever after for so long, and Eli was the first truly long-term boyfriend she’d had, the first guy who hadn’t treated her like garbage…

But he did treat me like garbage. He was just the only one who remained subtle about it. The only one who always knew all the things to say to distract me from what was really going on.

And as though everything else hadn’t been bad enough, he’d done this. He’d cheated on her and tried to hide behind a claim of polyamory. Another excuse, another false justification for his behavior, another dismissal of Willow’s feelings.

Because I’m just not capable of understanding, right?

If an open relationship was truly important to Eli, he would’ve talked to her about it. He would’ve discussed it with her. That was what adults did, wasn’t it? That was what partners did.

He was just…a pig.

Eli isn’t worth my heart, anyway. He isn’t worth any of this.

Telling herself that didn’t stop it from hurting.

Her chest felt constricted, her stomach uneasy, and her head light and fuzzy. Lifting a hand, she pressed her fingers to her forehead and closed her eyes.

“I’m done,” she whispered, lowering her hand. “I am swearing off dating, swearing off relationships, swearing off…assholes.” Willow’s lip trembled as more tears fell. “I’m done having my heart broken.”

“Rough night?” someone asked from behind her, his deep voice sending a tingle along her spine.

Willow’s eyes snapped open, and her fingers curled, nails digging into her arms. “I-I’m fine.”

Oh please, just go away.

The scene in the restaurant had been embarrassing enough. She didn’t need a random stranger to see her like this. She didn’t want pity.

Heavy footsteps drew nearer to her, and a large, dark shape entered her peripheral vision, barely discernable through her hair. The stranger hummed. “Water’s lovely with all the lights, isn’t it? Looks like stars dancing across the surface.”

His smooth, low voice had a faint lilt, just enough to fill it—and her—with unexpected warmth.

Willow turned her face farther away from him and wiped the moisture from her cheeks. “It does.”

“I think I know what’s wrong. You sat down in that restaurant, opened the menu, and made the mistake of looking at the prices. That’s why you came rushing out, isn’t it? Who wants to pay a hundred dollars for a half inch square of fish with some parsley sprinkled around it?”

A small laugh escaped her. “Yeah, it’s ridiculously overpriced, isn’t it?” Her brow creased, and her cheeks warmed as a mortifying thought occurred to her. “You saw me in Eden?”

He chuckled. The sound was even more enticing than his voice. “I saw you go in with your man. Then I saw you come out alone. Figured it was either the prices or…”

“He’s not my man. Not…not anymore.”

She peered aside to see the stranger lean his arms on the railing, but she was still only able to make out his dark coat. A breeze swept over them, carrying his scent directly to her nose—sandalwood, jasmine, and hint of something darker, something divine. Her eyelids nearly fluttered shut as she drew in that fragrance.

She’d never met a man who smelled so sensual.

“I see,” he said, a slight rumble entering his voice. “That’s his loss then.”

Willow sniffled and wiped her cheeks again. “I’m okay though. Really. Thank you for checking on me, but you…you don’t have to stand here with me.”

“I’m not ready to walk away from you.”

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