He took that as an in. I knew it when he pressed deeper and his face got closer.
So I moved to end it.
“You’re not the man for me, Ren, and I’m not the woman for you. We’re done and when I say that it is not a Rock Chick done where you can be badass or cool or whatever and talk me into changing my mind. I mean that in an Ally Nightingale way, where I know what I want and I’ve found the path that leads to a future that’s exciting to me. So when I say we’re done, I mean we’re done.”
With that, I pulled away, sliding out from in front of him and walking quickly up the stairs.
I had not had time to scatter my shit to the four corners of Ren’s house.
Which was good.
It meant what I had to gather took little time.
But it didn’t matter.
Because I barely hit his bedroom before I heard the front door slamming.
When I had it all gathered, I went to the window and looked down to see the Jag was gone.
So the coast was clear.
Nevertheless, I wasted no time double checking that I had absolutely everything.
And then I got the fuck out of there.
Chapter Seventeen
You’re Ally. And I’m Ren.
I opened my eyes and stared at the early morning light peeking through Daisy’s curtains.
I knew I hadn’t slept long. This was because I cried most of the night.
Yes. Me.
But I did it in Daisy’s pillow so she nor Marcus would hear.
When I arrived the night before, she took one look at me and gave me space. That was, she took me to a room, asked my preference and brought me a glass and a bottle of tequila.
Then she touched my cheek and whispered, “We’ll talk in the mornin’, sugar.”
She closed the door on her way out.
I didn’t take even a sip of her top shelf tequila.
I’d never been heartbroken, not like this, but I’d stood behind a bar countless times listening to those who were. And I’d noted, repeatedly, imbibing didn’t much help. Although that had been my preliminary plan, with the bottle and glass available to me, I instead chose the pillow and giving myself the opportunity to let loose the shit crawling inside me in an effort to get it out.
This didn’t much help either.
I’d had two calls in that time. One from Indy, the other from Roxie.
This meant Daisy nor Hank and Lee had shared with anybody, except my brothers told their wives. But Indy and Roxie told nobody. If they had, my phone would never quit ringing and The Castle (or Daisy’s house, which looked like a castle; no joke, complete with moat), would be descended on by Rock Chicks.
I was grateful for that, so much you wouldn’t believe. And I texted both Indy and Roxie to tell them I’d connect with them later, I needed some time, and they texted back that they’d give that to me.
By the way, Ren had not phoned. He had also not scaled the wall and broken in the window in order to press his suit.
This was not a surprise. I’d been pretty inflexible with the way I ended things.
But this meant I definitely wasn’t a Rock Chick. None of their men ever gave up.
That wasn’t bitching. It was just an observation that didn’t feel real great. Anyway, with the way I felt, I was glad Ren didn’t do this. This was mostly because, when I had time to let myself feel all the things I was feeling, I knew if he came back to me and pushed it, I’d cave.
Again.
Yes. Me.
Ally.
Caving.
That was how much I loved him.
So I told myself maybe it indicated how much he loved me that he was going to let me go, which was the only way he could give me what I needed.
And although this thought was cool (kind of, in a rip your heart out way), it didn’t make me feel any better, mostly because it ripped my heart out.
But now was now and I had a day to face.
