Do not look at your beautiful ex-husband, Natalie. Do not look at your beautiful ex-husband.
“It’s called self-preservation,” I snark. “You should try it sometime. Though I doubt the tortured artist that dwells inside you will allow it for your long prosperous career.”
“I know what’s real.”
“Yeah, so you’ve told me.” I turn to see his eyes heating. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m some sort of answer,” I bite cynically. “Clearly I’m not.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No. I’m a fucking stain, remember?”
The silence drags on until I finally brave a glance over to see Easton staring out the window. So many questions rest on my tongue, but I can’t ask them. I go for diplomatic instead.
“LL…is he okay? I read that he’s recovering, but how is he now?”
“He’s good, but it was close. Much to his complete and utter dismay, he’s going to be under strict medical care the entire time we’re overseas, and we’re going to go from there.”
“Are you two…getting along?”
“Yeah,” Easton nods. “There’s a lot more to him than I originally thought. But then again, he’s still LL,” his chest bounces with a silent chuckle.
“I knew it wasn’t drugs,” I relay happily.
“He wanted the dream,” Easton says softly, “so much that he risked his life for it.”
More questions spring to mind, but I can’t ask them. I can’t, because if I do, I know I’ll want to dive deeper. There’s nothing about this man I don’t want to know. Do I still know him? The awareness trying to awaken inside me says I do, and I’m still probably one of the closest people to him.
Do I still want to know him?
Six weeks ago, the old me would have jumped at the chance to remain in his life, but our last exchange broke something inside me—mostly hope. Our relationship felt toxic when he left me in that bathroom.
Even with all his allure, and the things his presence does to me, I feel stronger, even if I’m still bleeding.
“What are you thinking?” He asks softly without looking my way.
I sigh. “That I’m too damned young to feel this tired,” I glance at my smartwatch, “at eight twenty-seven a.m. Easton, what are you doing in Austin?”
“We’ll get to that.”
Turning, he reads my real question.
“Yeah, Beauty, I was already here before I found out your boyfriend cheated on you.”
I nod. “So, are you kidnapping me?”
“Do you really want to go home and search the web for bullshit?”
“No, but spending time with you could be just as catastrophic.”
“I’m not here to hurt you, Natalie.”
“Thank God for small favors,” my reply is barely audible.
He pulls my hand from the seat, and I shake my head adamantly, denying his touch. “Please don’t.”
His shoulders slump forward as he pulls his hand away. “All right. Part of why I’m here is that I wanted to apologize in person. I didn’t mean it, what I said about your future. I had a little growing up to do and still do. But I didn’t mean what I said. You’re too fucking smart to settle for less than what you deserve, and you didn’t.”
“So was my father,” I clarify. “If I would have realized that before I went off on a wild goose chase, then we—”
“Never would have happened,” he finishes, my conclusion paining him and me. “And I know.”
“Know what?”
“We’ll get to it,” he assures again.
I decide to give him honesty. “I’ve spent the last six weeks pulling myself together, Easton. Part of that was forgiving you. I’m still working on me.”
“But you haven’t,” he whispers softly. “Not really.”
“I haven’t heard a word from you since I divorced you and really never expected to again. What is with you fucking Crownes anyway? Is it our surname? Butlers to serve the Crowne? Is that why you people think you can barge into our lives, take what you need from us, and tear us apart before you take off again?”
He runs his hands through his hair. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“I think…that I remember every second of what I felt from the minute we met and the days, weeks, and months leading up to the last time I saw you and after. So no, I don’t truly believe that it’s intentional. But letting my heart rule my head, I’m fucking done with that, and I have to be for a while. We were idiots,” I whisper in an attempt to keep my voice even. “You know that, right? Both of us. We eloped after a handful of months together and really expected to be some sort of rare exception.” I bite my lip, withholding the comment that I believed we were.