But I couldn’t get over the fact that I felt as though I owed him something. That after everything he had been through, he needed some sort of compassion from me after I had refused to stay by his side.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t give him a taste of exactly what he had put me through.

“The truth is, Maxx, things suck. Does that make you feel better?” I asked coldly.

“No, it doesn’t, Aubrey,” Maxx said quietly, and the sound of my name on his tongue made me shudder involuntarily. “I hate that I’ve made things worse for you. I hate that you wouldn’t give me the chance to prove to you that I can make things better.” He didn’t sound angry or upset. He just sounded resigned, and that was almost worse.

I swallowed back the tears that I wouldn’t allow to fall. I stared up at the streetlight until my eyes burned. I bit my lip so it wouldn’t tremble and I wouldn’t speak until I was sure I could do so without wobbling.

“I can’t do this, Maxx. I told you before that I can’t. I’m not sure what you’re looking for from me, by calling after all this time, but I can tell you I can’t give it. I won’t.” I sounded so sure. So steady. It was all a goddamned lie.

“Is this some sort of ‘making amends’ assignment? Because I can assure you it’s not necessary.” I sounded hard and unforgiving. Which I knew was the last thing he needed, given what he was undoubtedly experiencing. But I also knew that if I opened myself up to him, that if I showed him a moment’s kindness, that it would be a quick and ferocious fall right back to where I was a few short weeks ago. And I just couldn’t do that to myself.

The back door of the bar opened and Brooks poked his head out. He raised his eyebrows when he saw me sitting on the cold ground, my phone pressed to my ear. I could only imagine what my face looked like.

“You okay?” he mouthed. I forced myself to smile and nod my head. I covered the phone with my hand.

“I’ll be back inside in a minute. Order me another beer, would ya?” I said, trying to act normal and unaffected.

Brooks, of course, wasn’t fooled. He took a step out into the alleyway. “Who are you talking to?” he asked, a little louder this time.

“Aubrey, are you still there?” Maxx’s voice danced into my ear, bouncing around in my head.

I removed my hand from the receiver. “Yeah, just hang on a sec,” I told him a bit tersely before turning back to Brooks.

“Just my mom,” I whispered to my friend, rolling my eyes and affecting a grimace.

Brooks pulled a face. “Ugh, sorry. I’ll order you two beers,” he said with a smile that I really appreciated right then.

I gave him a thumbs-up as Brooks left me alone.

“Look, I’ve got to go,” I said, returning to Maxx, who had waited silently on the other end.

“Who was that?” he asked quietly, and I recognized the tone clearly. He was jealous. And hurt. And there was a hint of betrayal as well. Which pissed me off.

“That was Brooks, all right? Not that I should have to explain that to you,” I replied grumpily.

“Oh, your friend. Right,” Maxx said, sounding relieved.

“Well, if you’re finished asking about my social life, I really need to go,” I said, wanting to get off the phone. And also not wanting to get off the phone. I wanted to run away and I wanted to stay exactly where I was.

Which had always been the strange dichotomy of my feelings for Maxx. He instigated a swirling, manic sort of confusion that consumed me.

I was trying really hard to be a woman who could learn from her mistakes. Not dive headfirst back into them.

I had also hoped that three weeks would harden my heart a bit more than they had.

“Aubrey, please. I know this will sound incredibly selfish, and I know you will probably say no, but I want to see you. I want to look at you and tell you how sorry I am. I need to see you and know that I didn’t ruin everything.” His words were a plea that was incredibly hard to resist.

His request both shocked and thrilled me.

I couldn’t see him. It would undo everything I was fighting so hard to rebuild.

What would be the point of reopening wounds that were only just now starting to heal? I was walking on this path with a clear and distinct destination. And as things stood, there was no place for Maxx Demelo in Aubrey Duncan’s new world order.

But . . .

Ugh! There it was . . . the doubt. The second-guessing. The brief hesitation and unwillingness to say no.

He’s doing exactly what you wanted him to do. How can you punish him for that? the obnoxiously romantic girlie voice inside of me trilled loudly.

You’re making a life for yourself without him. Don’t let Maxx derail you now that you’ve finally made peace with your disastrous choices! the stern, rational voice yelled, drowning out my other arguments.

“I know you made your decision . . . but it doesn’t change how I feel about you. It doesn’t change the fact that I have a hole in my heart where you belong. I miss you. I just . . . I want to see you. Just to say a proper good-bye, I guess.”

My jaded bitterness cackled in disbelief. He was so full of shit. His words smacked of emotional manipulation. But my heart could only remember the way he made my pulse race when he touched me.

“I don’t know, Maxx.” I heard the wavering.

“Please. Visiting hours are on Sunday afternoons, one to three. It really would mean a lot to me.”

I chewed on my lip and rubbed at the sore spot in my chest. “Where are you?” I asked tiredly, wanting a few more answers before I ended the call.

“I’m at Barton House. Do you know where that is?” he asked, and I nodded, though I realized he couldn’t see me.

“Yeah, it’s that place outside of the city. On the farm, right?”

“Yeah, on the farm,” Maxx confirmed.

“So do they have you raising chickens and herding cows or something?” I asked, and tried really hard not to smile at the sound of Maxx’s deep, rich laugh.

“Thank God, no! Can you imagine me in shit kickers growing wheat or something? I’m not cut out for that crap.” I started to laugh, too, and it felt good.

Too good.

And I realized that was something we hadn’t done much of during our short yet intense relationship. We had been together for only a few months, but in some ways it had felt like years. We hadn’t had a whole lot of time for laughing and joking and just being two people enjoying each other. We had been consumed by things far darker.

“I don’t think I can, Maxx. I’m working really hard to move on. And this phone call, going to see you, that would be the worst thing for both of us,” I said finally, breaking the moment of easy familiarity we had been dangerously close to slipping into.

“The worst thing for me? Or the worst thing for you?” he asked, sounding a little angry but as if he was trying hard not to be.

“For both of us. I don’t see how seeing me can help you right now. We did nothing but hurt each other. That isn’t a place you need to revisit when it seems like you’re trying to get yourself together,” I said, wishing I didn’t have to put voice to that painful truth.

But it needed to be said. Even if stating the obvious hurt just as badly as the first time I had left him. “I can’t save you, Maxx. I never could.”

“I’m not asking you to save me, Aubrey. I’m just asking you to come and see me. To give me something—” He cut himself off and there was a brief moment of silence, and in that quiet I regretted ever answering the phone. “I’m sorry. This isn’t fair. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll let you go. Forget I called,” he murmured.

I snorted in disbelief. Unfortunately for me, forgetting was something I’d never be able to do. Then, because I couldn’t stand the thought of Maxx berating himself, I had to say something. “Maxx, it’s okay. I understand . . . I’m just not ready . . . I just think—” I was making excuses when I shouldn’t. I was trying to justify things that shouldn’t need justification.