Second Chances [On Hold]

Chapter 18

And yet, I still love you.

        Those words—he couldn't. There's no way. He couldn't love me. Not after everything. Not after divorcing me. Not after those harsh words. He has to be lying.

        "Stop lying to me!" I barked, shoving at his chest. Hurt flashed across his eyes before he shook his head, not quite believing what had transpired seconds before.

        "Kylie—" His voice was desperate, almost pleading with me to understand. "I'm not."

        "Then why—"

        "—Read the outline. If you still hate me after that—" He paused, swallowing hard. "I'll go. I-I'll leave you for good."

        "Seriously? You'll disappear?"

        "If that's what you want." He nodded. "Yes."

        "Fine," I concluded with a sigh. "I'll read the damn outline."

        The corners of his lips tugged up into a small smile. "Thank you," he whispered softly, gazing at me one last time before walking past me, his herbal cologne still lingering in the air.

        Once he was gone, it took all my willpower to not break down in the middle of the street, as the rush of emotions finally hit me like a ton of bricks. What if he really was telling the truth? What if he still loved me? Do I . . . do I still love him? I couldn't—right? Caring is one thing, but love . . .? There's no way. Not after the struggles I'd to go through to get over him in the first place. I couldn't go back to that. I just couldn't.

        "Skylar," a voice called. I looked up to see Wyatt standing a couple of feet away from me. He smiled softly, taking long strides towards my direction. "Still want the cake?" he asked, producing a grin as he lifted the box up to his face.

        "Nah." I shook my head, glad for the distraction. "You can keep it."

        "You sure?" he probed, eyeing me carefully with calculating eyes.

        "I'm sure." Seeing the concern etched on his face, I chuckled softly, seeing right through him. He's way too easy to read. "Don't worry Wyatt, I'm fine."

        "I didn't say I was."

        "But you didn't deny it either."

        "True." He chuckled, his blue eyes crinkling. "So, I'm guessing by the excessive yelling, the conversation didn't go so well?"

        I rolled my eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh. "I don't want to talk about it," I grumbled, crossing my arms across my chest.

        He laughed. "So. Not good," he concluded. 

        "No," I replied. Just thinking about it makes my blood boil. To think he even had the nerves to tell me he loved me when he fucking broke my heart. Yeah. Love, my ass. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go home and read a stupid outline."

        "Want me to take you back?" Wyatt offered, pointing behind his shoulders—towards the general direction his car was probably parked at.

        "No, it's okay." I smiled gratefully at him. "I'll just catch a cab back. Plus don't you have work?" I arched a brow at him, awaiting his reply.

        "I can always take the rest of the day off . . ." The rest of his sentence drifted off as he eyed the ground before making eye contact with me again.