10 Years Ago: Regan

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"What do you want?"

Without turning around, I knew it was Riley standing in the doorway to my bedroom, and I knew he had his hands braced against the door jam, tensing to leave but then deciding to stay – no, leave. Stay. He'd been there a few minutes going back and forth with his decision, and I was sure he'd turn and run like I knew he had earlier today when he first tried this.

Sighing, I kept my gaze fixated out my window, watching the wind sway the branches of the willow tree—Noah's and my tree. But not anymore, was it? It had been our tree, our hideaway, our sanctuary. So many nights we had spent under it, on that bench, and in each other's arms. And now he was gone, disappeared. Would he ever think about the tree? Think about me?

I hope he thought about me. I wanted him to remember what he'd lost. What he'd never get back.

God, I'm such a liar.

All he would have to do was show up here and give me one look. Just one look with those beautiful hazel eyes, and I'd be his again.

"You know me so well that you could tell I was here without turning around?"

I didn't answer. Just kept watching the branches.

"Zig," he started.

"I can see your reflection in the window." Which wasn't a lie. Except that, yes, I knew he had been there before my watering eyes had registered his image in the glass. I despised the fact that I was still so in tune with him even while buried under all this anger and resentment, and sorrow.

Riley dared let out a small laugh and then walked in. He stopped a few feet away from me, staying on the other side of the bed to let it separate us. "We need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Yeah, well, I have something to say to you." His irritation was obvious. I couldn't have cared less.

"Go away, Riley."

"I'm sorry." He blurted it out like he had been holding in the apology for days. Hell, he probably had been. But I still didn't care.

Dad should really trim some of those branches.

"Would you just turn around?"

I turned, expression blank and tears still pouring. He paused as he took in my appearance. Was he surprised to see the tears? It had been pretty normal for me recently.  I wasn't sure what was so startling about it. Of course, he had been avoiding me like the plague for the better part of a month so maybe that was it.

"What for?"

He shot me a puzzled expression. "What do you mean, what for?"

"What are you sorry for?"

"You know."

I turned back to the window. "Get out."

"Zig, come on." He started around the end of the bed to come closer, and my instant revulsion of having him anywhere near me had me whirling to push him away. My hands slammed into his chest so hard he lost his balance and landed on his ass.

"Stay away from me!"

He was stunned stupid. Riley just sat there, looking up at me like he couldn't figure out how he had ended up on the floor so quickly. For a second, I thought he was going to jump back up and come at me, but then he settled back against the bed, resting his arms on his knees. "I deserved that," he admitted quietly, nodding slightly.

"You deserve much worse." I was still seething. "I should beat you bloody just like you did to Noah."

He was still nodding. "Would it make things right between us?"

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