Without pausing or waiting to hear what Zane Patterson had to say to that, he pivoted and strode out of the bar.
For the first time in a decade and a half, feeling...free.
“Dammit,” Sophie muttered, jerking the strap of her laptop bag from the car door where it’d snagged. Huffing out a breath, she let it slip to the ground and reached in the back seat for the cardboard box that contained some of her personal items from her desk.
Tears stung her eyes as she scanned the framed photo of her and her mom on vacation at Myrtle Beach a couple of years ago, her favorite “only the strongest women become writers” coffee mug and several other knickknacks. She’d waited until almost everyone on her floor had left for the evening before she packed up most of the items and carried them to her car. Fewer questions that way. Especially since she hadn’t yet informed her boss that she was leaving her job with the Falling Brook Chronicle.
It’d been her decision, and not one she made lightly.
And not because she feared Joshua would follow through with his subtle threat about informing Althea of being paid to pass on the DNA test. And also not because she was afraid her editor in chief would fire her after finding out she and Joshua had slept together.
No, she was leaving the paper and Falling Brook for herself.
Start over fresh.
Free of memories of Joshua and her own foolishness.
Maybe she’d return to Chicago. Or even go somewhere totally new, like Seattle. She’d visited once in college and had loved the eclectic and vibrant energy of the city...
“Sophie.”
No. It couldn’t be. Her stubborn, starved brain had conjured up his voice. She squeezed her eyes close, trying to banish it. The last thing she needed was to start imagining him when she was trying to let him go.
“Sophie, please. Can I have just a minute?”
Okay, this was no dream. Even her mind couldn’t envision Joshua Lowell saying “please.”
She carefully set her box back onto the seat, then pivoted.
And she really should’ve taken several more minutes to prepare herself for coming face-to-face with him after yesterday. God, it was so unfair. He’d stomped all over her heart. That should wear on a man. He should at least have new wrinkles. Bags under his eyes. Gray hair.
Horns.
But no, he was as beautiful as ever.
Damn him.
“What are you doing here, Joshua?”
“What is that?” he asked instead of answering, his gaze focused on the cardboard box before jumping to her face. “Are you planning on going somewhere, Sophie?”
“That isn’t any of your business.” Not anymore. Sighing, she shut the rear door and picked up her laptop bag. She’d just come back for the rest of her stuff later. “Now, please answer my question. What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” he said.
She shrugged a shoulder, moving past him toward her apartment building. “Well, you’ve achieved that objective, so if you’ll excuse me...”
A firm but gentle grip encircled her elbow, and she briefly closed her eyes, thankful her back was to him. He couldn’t witness the pain and longing that streaked through her at his touch. She vacillated between ordering him to never put his hands on her again and throwing herself into his arms, begging him to hold her...to love her.
Why, yes. She was pathetic.
Deliberately, she stepped back, out of his hold. Then shifted back even farther so even his scent couldn’t tease her.
Pride notched her chin up high as she forced herself to meet his gaze. A gaze that wasn’t cold like the last time they’d been together. No, it was softer, even...tender.
She hardened her heart, made herself remember how he’d accused her of lying to him, betraying him. Made herself remember that he’d cracked her heart in so many fragments, she still hadn’t been able to find all the pieces.
“Sophie, one minute. That’s all I’m asking, and then if you want me to, I’ll walk away and never bother you again.”
“Thirty seconds,” she shot back. That was what he’d given her the first time she’d bulldozed her way into his office.
As if he, too, recalled the significance, a small smile curved his mouth. “I’ll take it.” He rubbed a hand across the nape of his neck and moved forward, but at the last second, halted. Respecting the distance she’d placed between them. “Sophie, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for not believing in you. For accusing you of selling me out. For jumping to conclusions and painting you as the villain. For looking at you through the lens of my past instead of seeing who you really are. You were right about me. I was so scared you would leave me so I used whatever excuse I could to push you away first. I would rather be alone than risk the chance of someone hurting me again, betraying me again. And I punished you for my fears, my shortcomings. I’ll never forgive myself for letting you walk out that door believing that I thought you capable of that. I know words are inadequate, but, sweetheart, I’m so fucking sorry.”
Her lungs hurt from her suspended breath. His apology reached beneath skin and bone to her bruised and wounded heart, cupped it. Soothed it.
But the words were a little too late. The damage had been done. And she couldn’t undo the hurt, the humiliation. The rejection of her love.
Her rejection of herself.
“Joshua, a few years ago, I met a man. Fell in love with him,” she whispered. “I didn’t know it at the time, but he was using me for his own ends. Not that you’ve ever done that,” she hurriedly added, because of all he’d done to her, Joshua was incapable of that kind of perfidy. It just wasn’t in him. “But I almost lost my career—I almost lost myself—because I loved the wrong man. A man who didn’t love me
