Unforgiven(7)

“What do you want me to say, Lindsay? It sounds like you have a great opportunity—and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the person to hold you back from that.” His dark brown eyes meet mine.
“What would you do if you were me?” I ask him.
“That’s easy. I’d choose you because I love you and you mean more to me than any job or any opportunity. But Lindsay, I won’t stop you from chasing this dream. You’ll live with your decision for the rest of your life. I never want to be a decision you regret.” He pulls away from me as he turns toward the hallway. “But promise me something, will you?” I nod at him as a lump forms in my throat. “Follow your heart. I know you better than you know yourself and I know how your brain works— listen to your heart.” I hear him shuffle down the hall toward the kitchen.
I have no idea how long I’ve been standing, staring at that damn phone when I pick it up and hit Jack’s name on the recent calls screen.
“Lindsay,” his deep voice drawls.
“I’ll do it.” My voice shakes. “I’ll take it.” My heart sinks and tears fill my eyes.
“Welcome to Phoenix, sweetheart.”
My legs are weak and my hands shake as I second-guess my decision to leave, knowing I very well may be making the biggest mistake of my life. My dream of working in a top fifteen market just came true and all I want to do is vomit. Sliding down the wall I’ve been leaning against for support, I wrap my arms around my knees as I try to calm myself. As I glance back at the open door, I see Matt standing in defeat, broken. His brown eyes are grim and lost, while his face says everything my heart is feeling—shattered.
“Well, that was an easy decision,” he snarls at me. He walks across the bedroom and pulls a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from the dresser.
“Matt, listen to me—I have to take this opportunity. It’s a year. We can handle a year apart.”
“We, Lindsay? We? I can barely handle one night without you and you want us to spend a year apart?” His voice is raised and the vein in his neck is throbbing. My heart is racing as I watch his temperament change from hurt to angry. “I can’t do long distance, and I know you can’t either.” I chew on my bottom lip while I search for anything to say to calm him down.
“Then come with me. Matt, you can be a cop anywhere.”
“Everything I have, everything I love is here, Lindsay.”
He steps into his shorts and pulls the t-shirt over his head. He runs his hands through his mussed up hair and just stares at me. “Who are you? I feel like I don’t even know you anymore!” His tone is sharp. “Where is the girl I fell in love with? Remember when you’d sneak over and into my bed every night and share your dreams of what you wanted with me? Where’d that girl go? Over the last year, you’ve become so focused on your career and making it to the next level—and I understand that this is your dream, but it was supposed to include both of us.”
My throat has become so dry it’s closed up. I’m unable to speak. His dark brown eyes glisten as he looks to me for answers.
“I was fine just being a cop, being your boyfriend, and supporting your dream—here. All I asked for, all I wanted was for you to love me.”
“I do love you, Matt,” I barely make out.
He laughs bitterly. “You love me? You love me so much you made what should have been the hardest decision of your life in fifteen seconds.”
“I won’t go. I’ll tell him I made a mistake.”
“Don’t,” he says quietly. “Like I said earlier, I never want to be a decision you regret. I just never thought I’d ever be a decision you could make in a matter of seconds.” He walks out of the room and down the hallway.
“Matt, wait.” I chase after him.
“Just go.” He slides his feet into a pair of tennis shoes and grabs his keys off the table next to the front door. The door slams behind him as he leaves. I had no idea that this would be the last time I saw him before I left for Phoenix.




 
 
Stepping off the airplane, I’m assaulted with hot air—so hot it feels like someone is holding a blow dryer on high heat directly to my face. My cell phone chimes, alerting me to an incoming text message, most likely from Jack. I ignore it as I have with every other text message and phone call that has come in over the last two weeks. I take my time making my way toward the exits that lead to baggage claim, stopping in the nearest restroom to splash some cold water on my face and fix my tousled hair.
The girl looking back at me in the mirror is ashen gray with messy sandy blonde hair and lifeless blue eyes. That’s exactly how I feel—lifeless. I pull my stringy hair back into a ponytail and tug at the long, cream tank top I’m wearing over a pair of black leggings. If I had bothered to check the weather, I would have known it was going to be one hundred and fifteen degrees and I would have worn shorts or a dress instead of leggings.