Page 96 of Resisting Mr. Granville

“Excuse me, young lady?”

My gaze jumps to the lady behind us in line. Since she’s calling out to me, I think I must have dropped something so I look around for what it was, but I realize belatedly I don’t have a purse or any belongings to drop.

I feel dread deep in my gut, but I swallow it down and answer her anyway. “Yes?”

She gazes at me solemnly, then says, “Babies are a miracle.”

My stomach bottoms out.

My whole body does, actually. I feel like my stomach, my soul, and everything else has been scooped out and I’m just an empty husk standing here.

I can’t keep the stricken look off my face—I’m too stunned, too floored to pretend to feel anything other than utterly attacked.

Jonathan is not in the same boat. Scowling like she just hurled her opinion where it didn’t belong—which she did—he says, “Hey, lady? Go fuck yourself.”

She gasps, drawing back and clutching her chest. If she could find words, I bet they’d be, “Why, I never!” but she’s completely aghast that her unsolicited advice wasn’t appreciated.

Jonathan shakes his head, pulling out his wallet and jamming his credit card into the reader.

The cashier presses a button on the register and quickly gathers up our bags. Jonathan grabs them without another word, then puts a hand on the small of my back and gently nudges me forward.

“You want a coffee or anything?” he asks, flicking a glance toward the Starbucks at the front of the store.

I shake my head. “No. We should probably just go before Karen finds a manager.”

He smirks. “Let her, I’ll tell them the same fucking thing.”

A faint smile tugs at my lips. “Jonathan Granville, defender of women.”

“Fuck the patriarchy and all that,” he jokes.

I laugh, and it feels so fucking good. For the better part of the day, I’ve felt sure I’d never laugh again.

My laughter doesn’t last for long, though.

When we walk through the exit doors and the cool air hits me, it feels like walking back into reality. That lady’s words—and worse, the look on her face when she looked at me like I was the worst person she had ever encountered—wash back over me.

Maybe Iama terrible person.

Milo flashes to mind, that heartbreaking look on his handsome face last night when I went into Jonathan’s bedroom. He looked so sad, and it was all because of me.

He’s the last person I would ever want to hurt, he just… wouldn’t give me what I needed.

I made the choice I felt I had to make, but it’s going to cost me. One impulsive decision… it’s going to cost me everything.

A memory surfaces of just last night, Milo’s strong arms wrapped around me in the bathtub.

It feels like a lifetime ago already.

All those magical, blissful nights I could have had with him, gone. I threw them away.

Tears sting behind my eyes, blurring my vision. I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it’s stubborn and won’t go down.

Jonathan grabs my arm and yanks me back when I step off the curb and inadvertently almost walk in front of a white SUV that’s rolling past.

“Sorry,” I say awkwardly when he scowls at me, and I tuck a thick chunk of hair behind my ear.

Once we’re safely in the car, I grab the receipt listing the first of many debts I can’t afford and shove it into my new purse. Jonathan grabbed me a bottled water from the coolers by the registers. I uncap it so I can swallow the pill in the parking lot before we leave.

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