Part 42 (1/2)

He nodded.

”Well, I violated that. I fell totally, madly in love with you. Don't you see? I can't marry you. You keep telling me to be strong. The truth is, I'm not made of that kind of steel. I'm not. I can't stand to be close to you, all the time knowing that you are f.u.c.king me, dominating me, wanting me to wear your collar and no matter what I do, no matter how I behave, how much I try, you will never love me in return.” Her voice cracked. ”I'm destroyed right now. The times we've been together, going to the coffee shop, working out, talking, dating like a real couple...they've been magic, and they've been unbelievably difficult to endure because I know they're not real to you, that you don't have the same responses that I do.”

She took a deep, steadying breath, but she knew it wouldn't help. Her voice was cracking with the force of her emotion. ”I blame myself-”

”Lara.”

”No. Don't. You warned me. I should have paid attention, but I didn't listen. After two more years of feeling your physical response and being denied your heart, I'd be decimated. I'm sorry. My dad's offering me a way out, and I have to take it.”

With all of her resolve, she walked from his office.

As she closed the door, she heard him call, ”Lara! Wait!”

Knowing that if she looked back, she'd be undone, she kept moving.

Chapter Thirteen.

”You look like s.h.i.+t.”

”Thanks, sis.”

Uninvited, Erin walked into Connor's kitchen, opened the refrigerator, pulled out an unopened bottle of wine and uncorked it. She poured herself a great big gla.s.s. Then, still, uninvited, went and plopped herself onto his couch.

That she had shown up annoyed him, but it wasn't a shock. He hadn't responded to her texts or calls. In fact, he hadn't spoken to anyone in the family for almost a week.

When she'd arrived in the lobby, she'd buzzed for entrance, and he'd ignored her. Undeterred, she'd let herself in. And she hadn't been at all concerned to find him working out. Instead, she'd said she'd wait.

He'd stayed on the rower for another twenty minutes. But then he realized he might pa.s.s out from exhaustion before she gave up.

When he'd sought her out, he'd found her on the couch, in his spot, with his channel changer in hand watching some G.o.dawful tear-jerker channel. The movie had to be as old as she was, but she'd been staring at it as if it were a gripping drama filled with award-winning actors.

He'd plucked the remote from her hand then turned off the television.

But now that she was back in his spot with a full gla.s.s of wine, appearing that she'd settled in for the evening, he wished he'd gone about his business.

She slipped out of her shoes and folded herself into a semi-lotus position.

Resigning himself, he poured himself a gla.s.s of wine and took a chair across from her. ”To what do I owe this honor?”

”I came to get Lara's stuff.”

The statement made him blink. On some level, he'd expected she'd come herself. Hoped, maybe. Which was probably why he hadn't boxed it up and returned it himself. Instead, he'd left dresses hanging in the closet, lingerie in the laundry hamper, her hairbrush on the vanity, even a bar of soap in the bathtub tray. Everything as if she were coming back.

”So, tell me. What the h.e.l.l happened between you two? We've all been waiting to hear news of the wedding, then poof, nothing. What are we supposed to think?”

”You'll need to ask Lara.”

”I did.”

”And?”

”Other than saying things had worked out for both companies and that it was no longer necessary, she was pretty quiet. Well, except for the tears part.”

That got to him.

”So I asked her for details. She gave me none.”

”And?”

”h.e.l.lo, dumbnuts. She's been a friend for years. We share everything. That she's not telling me means she's protecting you. And that annoys the c.r.a.p out of me. What did you do that you called off the wedding and she feels the need to protect you from my wrath?”

”Clearly that didn't work.”

”Clearly.” She took a long drink before putting her gla.s.s down. ”I want the details, Conn. And you can skip the plat.i.tudes.”

”You're a.s.suming it was my fault.”

She rolled her eyes.

”Really, Erin, it's none of your business.”

”You hurt my friend,” she countered. ”And that makes it my business.”

All week, Julien's words about Connor being an a.s.s had returned to haunt him. Julien had said love was a messy thing and Connor's personal experience had proved him right.

After she'd left his office on Friday afternoon, Connor had been angry. He'd felt betrayed that she hadn't turned to him and that she'd made a decision about their future without consulting him.

Anger had built, and after he'd canceled the appointment with the judge and let his lawyer know that the prenuptial agreement was now void, he'd turned up the notch until he was p.i.s.sed.

Sat.u.r.day he'd woken up morose. It should have been his honeymoon. Instead, he'd been taunted by the sight of their rings on his dresser. He'd spent too much time that evening with a well-aged bottle of whisky.

He'd woken on Sunday with a determination to forget about her. He'd worked out, grabbed his bike and gone for a grueling ride in the punis.h.i.+ng heat then had returned home to pump some iron and finally swim his way into exhaustion.

Sometime yesterday, he'd tried to convince himself that her decision had been a good one.

But no matter how hard he worked out, he couldn't outrun her last words. She loved him.

That statement had him tied in emotional knots.

And his little sister's visit wasn't helping.

”You know why I'm confused? I thought you liked her. She's the only woman you've ever brought to a family function.”

”We were supposed to be getting married,” he reminded her.

”But I saw the way you looked at her, the way you touched her.”