Now a Major Motion Picture (33 page)

“I’m sorry.” She looked embarrassed.

“No worries.” He smiled and sheepishly stopped scanning the other lanes. Instead his eyes landed on the little girl, who was no longer wailing, but was staring wide-eyed up at him, a tuft of strawberry curls stuck to her forehead. He grinned at her, and she reached up and held out the crumbling cookie she clutched in one fist.

“No, no, Myra,” the mother said. “Leave the nice man alone. He doesn’t want to share your cookie.”

Myra looked at him for confirmation, and he gave her a serious look. “No, thank you.” He pointed at her. “You eat it.”

The woman shot him a grateful smile and turned back to the cashier, who was behind the register again. While he waited, Noah’s eyes drifted to the impulse buys lining the rack to his left.
Oh yeah, remote batteries.
He leaned over and reached for a pack of AAs, and as he did, his eyes accidentally grazed the line of magazines that stretched across the top of the aisle. His eyes popped as he found himself face to face with Amelia—he’d forgotten to expect it.

He spun around, kicking his willpower into overdrive and directing his attention to the cashier, who was handing the redheaded woman her receipt. But it was too late—he’d already seen the headlines screaming out above the photos. He turned his head back toward the rack, his jaw slack.

“Colinmel: Engaged!” read one. “First Came Love, Second Comes Marriage,” read another. The phrase was centered above two pictures, one of Colin grinning widely, the other of Amelia walking with her eyes cast down toward—Noah squinted at the fuzzy image—a massive diamond that glittered from the fourth finger of her left hand.

* * *

He finished checking out and wandered into the parking lot toward his car. He clicked open the rear compartment and tossed in his bags, the heavy jug of Tide landing on its side with a thud. He moved around to the driver’s side door in a daze, the image of that ring on that hand—the same hand that had once worn
his
ring—burned into his retinas.

What had happened to the ring he’d given her? Of course he hadn’t asked for it back, and she hadn’t thrown it at him the day she’d kicked him out like women always did in movies. Had she sold it? Lost it? Tossed it into the East River? As his mind flashed back to the tabloid covers, he slipped into his old, familiar beating-himself-up routine.
There’s no reason for this to bother me. I’m not with her. She’s with him. Of course they’re getting married. Of course.
How could he not have seen this coming?

Besides, he was heading home to his own life. Home to Erin, who was waiting for him at his condo—she’d let herself in after work. She was probably cooking dinner for him, or at least ordering takeout—doing something unbearably thoughtful.
I don’t deserve her.
He had to pull it together, if not for himself, then for her. He couldn’t drag her down this roller coaster with him again. He didn’t think either of them could take it.

By the time he pulled the car into his garage and reached for the back door handle, he’d reconnected with his willpower. He’d forced Amelia out of his head, replaced the image of the ring that meant she’d never again be his with one of Erin’s trusting eyes. He resolved, once again, to trade his past for his future.

Uh-oh

Noah took a deep breath before opening the door from the garage, expecting Erin to meet him with the cheerful, witty chatter that came as natural to her as breathing.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he saw her eyes. They were dull, suspicious. She did come to the door to greet him—and she tilted her face up when he leaned down for a kiss—but she was quiet. And quiet was trouble.

He looked at her quizzically for a moment and then pursed his lips, deciding not to ask. He dropped the Target bags on the floor by the back door, kissed her again on the forehead, and started down the hall toward his room, going through his usual routine of emptying his pockets onto his nightstand, kicking off his shoes, settling in.

He knelt down to scratch Amos on the head. “Hey, boy. Have you had a good day? Did Erin take you for a run?”

As he said her name, he felt her presence looming in the doorway behind him. He stifled a sigh and then turned toward her, his eyes appraising. “What’s wrong, Erin?” he finally asked, pretty sure he didn’t want to know.

She didn’t say anything, just turned and walked back down the hall, obviously willing him to follow her.

Uh-oh.

He turned his attention to Amos again, nuzzling him behind his ears, scratching his upturned belly, and thinking wistfully how easy that relationship was. He finally let out the sigh he was suppressing and trudged down the hall to face whatever it was he was in for. He remembered his resolve of a few minutes earlier, on the drive home, and tried to cover himself with a thick new layer of it.

He trailed Erin to the living room and found her sitting in the middle of the sofa, her expression sullen, her knees pulled into her chest and her arms wrapped around them.
What the hell?
He sank down next to her, the question in his eyes starting to form itself on his lips.

And then he noticed Amelia’s books.

They were piled beside Erin on the couch, their covers rumpled, their pages showing the effects of being dog-eared again and again. The color drained from his face, his question melting away. He stared at Erin, not sure whether to be ashamed or pissed.

She stared back, still silent, appraising him.

“So I see you’ve read the books.” Her voice was quiet, even. “Couldn’t stop yourself, could you? I guess I should’ve expected that.”

She paused for another beat.

“Looks like you’ve spent a lot of time with them.”

He pursed his lips, watching her silently for a few seconds before he finally exploded, anger winning out over his whirling array of emotions.

“What have you been doing today? Going through my stuff? Is that why you wanted to spend the weekend here? To spy on me?”

He felt the unfairness of the words before they even left his mouth. He knew he was just upset at getting caught. Because he was, after all, guilty of what she was accusing him of. He wouldn’t willingly have told Erin how much time he’d spent with Amelia’s books in the past two weeks. But he also couldn’t believe she’d found them—he’d buried them on the bookshelves in the second bedroom he used as a home office. He hadn’t tried to “hide” them, per se, but they hadn’t been particularly visible, either. And what the hell had she been doing snooping around his office?

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response, Noah,” she said in a low voice. “I’ve been trying to trust you. I shouldn’t have to work this hard to do it. Trusting you is starting to feel like a full-time job.”

After a few seconds, the spark in her eyes softened, and he winced when he saw her jaw tremble.

“I just wanted something to read.” Her voice dropped to a hurt whisper. “I forgot to bring a book. I didn’t feel like watching TV. I didn’t know how long you’d be.”

Her defense was clearly an apology, and he felt like the biggest ass on the face of the planet. He dropped his head into his hands.

He lifted it a few seconds later, his eyes boring into hers with a pleading expression before he cast them down again. “I don’t know what to say, Erin. Yes, I’ve read the books. Obviously. I don’t, that doesn’t—it doesn’t mean anything.” He glanced back up at her. “I was just…curious.”

The argument was weak and he knew it.
I’m such a fucking moron. I’m going to lose her over this.
He realized, at that moment, that he’d known that already, that the certainty of the fact had been lurching toward him like a slow-moving train.

His eyes prickled, and the sudden sting of tears put him off balance. He couldn’t believe he was about to go through this with Erin, too. His head dropped back into his hands. He wasn’t sure how long he sat like that, but he didn’t move until he felt Erin’s palm rub against his back in a slow circle.

He choked out a half laugh, half sob. Perfect. Here they were, him in the wrong, and yet
she
was the one comforting
him
. What the hell did that even
mean
?

He glanced up miserably and found her gazing at him with a look of sad resolve. He saw something more in her expression, something that almost looked like…sympathy, and his eyes widened. And here he’d thought she couldn’t possibly make him feel worse.

She spoke then.

“Look, Noah…” she started, her voice trailing off. She breathed in deeply and exhaled in a long sigh. “There are three people in this relationship. I’ve always felt it. I can’t even blame you for it, because I knew. From that first night, I knew.”

She glanced down, quiet again. Noah started to speak, but she put a finger to his lips. “Wait. Just hear me out.”

She paused another moment, her eyes closed.

“I always felt her there, like she was this shadow hanging over us. I thought I could be enough to make it go away.” Her voice broke, and he winced again. She didn’t deserve a single second of what he was putting her through—had been putting her through from the start, apparently. He looked up, wanting to protest, but one glance at her face silenced him again.

He steeled himself for what he knew was coming.

“Here’s the thing,” she continued, her eyes flashing with resentment. “I won’t be second best. I won’t be some consolation prize.”

Her chin lowered as she studied his pained expression.

“I know how hard you’re trying,” she said, softer now. “And I love you, Noah. I love you so much.” Her voice caught in her throat. He waited, but she didn’t continue.

“I love you, too,” he rasped finally, fighting against the tears that threatened to spill over in reaction to the ones rolling down her cheeks. He put his arm around her and pulled her in toward his chest.

She sniffled and relaxed against him for several hopeful seconds. Then he felt her square her shoulders, and she pulled back just enough to study him again. He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“I know.” Her voice was a near whisper. “And I wish it was enough.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, waited.

“But I’m not her. I’m not the one who’s meant for you. I think I…get that now.”

He glanced up sharply.
Why? What’s changed?
He thought it, but didn’t say it out loud. How had Erin’s discovery that he’d read Amelia’s books made such a difference? It’s not like he’d cheated on her, not like he suddenly had to choose between them. There was no choice. Amelia wasn’t even an option on the table.

That’s when it hit him.

He
had
chosen Amelia. He had, and Erin knew it. She knew as well as he did that if Amelia
was
an option for him, he’d take it—without a thought, without a backward glance. And by reading those books behind Erin’s back, it was as good as if he’d made the choice.

He’d betrayed Erin, too, betrayed her thoroughly.

As his shoulders crumpled under a whole new round of misery, her hand moved to his back again, massaging his tense muscles in another slow circle. Her voice was quiet and even—resigned—when she spoke.

“If there’s one thing in life I believe with total certainty,” she said slowly, “it’s that everything happens for a reason. I wanted this to work out, Noah. I really wanted you to be the one.” She paused and drew in another long, slow breath. He glanced up at her as she blew it out.

“But you’ve never been mine. And I’ll be okay. I will.”

He stared at her, knowing she was right. Erin wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met. That point was driven home with the next words out of her mouth. They were louder, stronger, but he still wondered if he’d heard them correctly.

“You’ll be okay, too. But you’d better go to her. Soon. Because if you wait much longer, you’re going to be too late.”

Instantly, his mind flashed to Amelia’s face. The headlines. The ring…

Erin rose from the sofa, leaving him openmouthed, his eyes trailing her as she left the room and started gathering her things. He’d barely managed to lift his jaw when, a few minutes later, she paused beside him, her green duffle bag slung over her shoulder. He stood slowly, feeling oddly detached from the scene as she stretched up to kiss him on the lips. After giving him a long look, she pulled away.

“Good-bye, Noah,” she said.

He followed her numbly to the door.

“Good-bye,” he whispered once it had already closed behind her.

* * *

He stared up at the darkened ceiling, his hands behind his head. When he’d walked into his bedroom and dropped back against his pillow, there’d been just enough light streaming in around the edges of his shades that he hadn’t switched on a lamp. Now night had fallen, but he hadn’t bothered to change that situation.

His thoughts were darker than the room.

Erin had been gone for two hours, which meant he’d been lying here that long. But the thought didn’t compel him to move, nor did the hunger pangs that bordered on nausea in his stomach. He was still in shock that she’d actually broken up with him. It felt like it had come out of nowhere, despite the fact that it was obvious they’d been heading in that direction. Maybe that was because the past couple of weeks had been so good.

This morning, things had been fine. Normal, even. Now his whole life was upside-down. Amelia was engaged. Erin was gone.

He was alone.

Might as well get used to it.
The cloud of self-pity that had hung over him since Erin left broke open, showering him with alternating torrents of shame and anger. He lurched sideways, fumbled for his phone, and scrolled down the list of contacts until he reached her name. He paused with one finger above the call button before letting the phone drop back onto his nightstand.

There was nothing he could say that would matter. She wasn’t going to rethink her decision.

He repelled women, that was all there was to it.

For the tenth time since she’d left, he retraced his actions of the past few months. There was so much he could have done differently, so much that surely would have prevented her from walking out. For one thing—and he flushed hot with shame again—he could have tried being honest with her. He’d never let her in, never given her the full story about Amelia until it was too late. He guessed that in that sense, he’d doomed their relationship from the start, though he hadn’t seen it that way until now. He’d thought he was protecting her.