What is he doing? Is he asking me to marry him all over again?
Payton remembered the stomach-clenching pain she’d felt in those minutes after she left Cruz. Returning to her room, packing up, and then…she had waited for him. Hoped and feared that he’d knock on that door and try again. Make her see his way, anything. Just fight for her.
But he didn’t.
She’d boarded that flight, the pain excruciating, wondering how she’d ever feel anything again. Those hours on the plane had felt like the longest in her life.
Monday came and then Tuesday and Wednesday and she’d lay in bed watching her favorite romcoms and eating her weight in chocolate-covered cherries in between going through boxes of tissues for the constant flow of tears. She’d almost made it out once, to go pick up a new cell phone.
Then she thought about all the long hours that she’d spend staring at it. Willing it to ring. Willing Cruz to call and tell her he’d been an idiot and he’d move heaven and earth to be with her—she’d clearly been watching too many romcoms.
And when he didn’t, it would crush her all over again, that is if there were anything left to crush.
So she decided she liked her ignorant bliss. Of shutting out the world and hiding under the comfort of her duvet. Wondering if only she hadn’t put such a condition on Cruz, they might be together now. If she’d been more flexible. Then she put on one of her favorite Sandra Bullock flicks for the eighth time and cried some more.
Until Thursday came. And she realized she was done with changing anything in her life for anyone but herself. She needed to find out what exactly she wanted. Live for herself. No one else.
Even though she now woke up every day, her chest feeling almost ripped open again as the memories flooded back to her, she resolved to move on.
To forget.
She had to admit, what Brad was offering was tempting. New life. New memories. New adventures in a new city. And what he said made sense. About having the basic foundation of building something together—even if trust was still going to be a long time coming.
It would be so easy to say yes. Things would be fun and comfortable with Brad. But she’d be running away. Hiding herself in something that was only…second best. She could see that, and as tempting as that might be, it wouldn’t be right.
Sadly, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Brad. I just can’t.”
Cruz sat in his car another minute, unable to tear his gaze from the scene. Payton and Brad sitting on her couch, laughing together. Talking. Enjoying a celebratory glass of wine.
Obviously together.
It was like someone had dropped a load of bricks on him then sucker punched him just for the hell of it. He’d expected this, hadn’t he? So why was he so surprised?
Monday had been tough, arriving in Salt Lake alone and trying to get back to work. There’d been tons to do, people to talk to, and he’d been able to completely fill his day, barely having time to collapse into bed and repeat it all the next day. And the day after that. Until nearly a week had whizzed by and he’d barely had any time to think about what he left behind. The life he thought he was going to have.
Only tonight, he’d found himself aimlessly driving and before he knew it, he was outside her place, excited and terrified when he first saw her sitting alone on the couch through her open blinds. Something he’d been thinking he needed to warn her about, since she didn’t know the number of pervs out there.
Then Brad had joined her.
Cruz still didn’t know why he’d come here tonight, what he’d hoped for. He only knew that this past week he’d missed Payton with such savage intensity that he had needed to see her. See if maybe she still wanted to give this thing a shot. To tell her he’d been an idiot to let her get on that flight back home without him. For even letting her out the damn door.
Only, he hadn’t expected to see she had company.
Brad Eastman of all people.
Maybe this was good, him seeing her like this. Happy. Not pining away for him. It was the kick in the ass he needed to get his head back in the game.
Because he had to admit, these past few days, his head had been anywhere but at work. He was going to blow the whole thing and everything he’d given up would be for nothing.
It’s done then.
He didn’t have to worry that he let her down. He didn’t have to think about her at all.
He only hoped he could live with his feeling, this deep sense of loss, that he’d let the best thing he’d ever had get away from him.
Cruz arrived at his parent’s house the next night for the usual Sunday dinner, something that he’d missed last week in Mexico, when he couldn’t face anyone and had holed up in his hotel room until his flight the next day.
He’d imagined his family downstairs waiting in the restaurant, passing grins and knowing glances at what might have his attention upstairs enough to miss their Sunday dinner. It was better to let them think that than to come down and face them with the real truth.
That Payton had hopped on a jet with her ex-fiancé and mother, deciding to move on with her life. Without him.
But Payton would have been a distraction, one he couldn’t afford. Which was why he’d first instilled his rule of no serious relationships. They consumed too much time and worry. And time was in short supply.
It threw him for a minute when he walked in to his parent’s kitchen to see everyone gathered around the table, his parents, and Daisy and Benny. Dominic was still on his honeymoon for a few days or he and Kate would probably be there too. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out who they were talking about since the room went awkwardly silent when he entered.
He pretended not to notice and went to the stove, lifting a pot and smelling the savory goodness inside. “Smells great. Sorry I’m late. I was at the office running a few numbers. I think we can get the first crew started on that demolition by Wednesday,” he said to his dad.
Petter Sorensen sat with his usual stoicism at the head of the table, his arms folded in front of him. He nodded. “I am sure you have it all handled.”
The women all gave each other meaningful glances and he waited to see who would take the lead. His bets were on Benny, the youngest and most fearless.
“Heard anything from Payton?” Yep. Predictable.
“No, Benny. I haven’t. Nor would I expect to.” He poured a glass of water and watched them from over the rim as he drank.
“Seriously? You don’t think everyone noticed the way you two looked at each other, spent the whole night staring into each other’s eyes, and then quietly disappeared together?”
He pretended to mull her words over. “Payton is a beautiful woman. Can you blame me for wanting to enjoy her company? I would think you’d be congratulating me for getting up and dancing instead of brooding in a corner.”
This time Daisy intervened. And not on his behalf. “Yes, but coming from the guy who thinks even a hug is too much of a public display of affection—from your mother—your turn into a regular Don Juan was a little surprising.”
This was exactly the reason he’d been hiding from everyone for the past week. They never let up. He sighed heavily. “Payton had just broke up with her fiancé,” he said with emphasis, “a guy she’s known for years and was about to spend the rest of her life with. She wasn’t looking for anything serious, just a good time. Same with me.”