Madison
I refused to look at him, focusing instead on selecting the perfect tomato like my life depended on it.
“Yes,” I said finally. “We were.”
“Then why won’t you talk to me?”
“Because there’s nothing to talk about,” I added three tomatoes to my basket. “You got engaged. I quit. End of story.”
“You never even gave me a chance to explain.” 1
I spun to face him. “Explain what? That you were sleeping with me while planning a future with Katherine? That I meant nothing to you? I got the message loud and clear.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“No? Then what was it like?” I challenged. “You got what you wanted from me, then moved on to someone more appropriate.”
“Madison.”
“Don’t.” I held up a hand. “Don’t say my name like that. Like we’re friends. Like you care.”
“I do care.”
“No, you don’t.” I moved past him toward the pasta aisle. “You’re just not used to people walking away from you. It bothers you. Your ego can’t handle it.”
He followed. Of course, he followed.
“That’s not fair.”
“Life rarely is. You taught me that.”
I grabbed a box of pasta, then another. Alexander watched me with that intense focus that used to make my knees weak. Now it just annoyed me.
“Are you done shopping yet?” he asked.
“Are you done following me around like a lost puppy?”
His mouth twitched. Almost a smile. “I’ve been called many things. Lost puppy is a new one.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
I moved through the aisles with purpose, throwing items into my basket. Bread. Milk. Cheese. Coffee. Alexander maintained his position three feet behind me, close enough to talk but not close enough to touch.
“You look good,” he said quietly.
I ignored him, reading ingredient labels with intense concentration.
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“Connecticut suits you. You seem happy.”
“I am happy.” The words came out sharper than intended.
“Good. That’s good.”
1 grabbed a jar of pasta sauce, debating between marinara and alfredo. The decision suddenly felt monumentally important.
“The café’s impressive,” Alexander continued. “You’ve built something real.”
“Thanks for the performance review.” I chose marinara. “I’ll add it to my collection.”
“Madison, I’m trying here.”
“Try somewhere else.” I headed toward the checkout, basket heavy on my arm. “I have things to do. Places to be. A life that doesn’t include you.”
The checkout line moved with agonizing slowness. An elderly woman ahead of me counted out exact change while the cashier smiled patiently. Behind me, I felt Alexander’s presence like heat against my back, close enough that his cologne wrapped around me, that same expensive scent that used to cling to my sheets.
I refused to look at him. Refused to acknowledge how my heart hammered against my ribs or how my hands trembled slightly as I set items on the conveyor belt.
The cashier rang up my items with cheerful efficiency. “$53.45.”
I reached for my wallet just as Alexander stepped forward, card already in hand.
“I’ve got it,” he said.
“No.” I blocked his hand with mine, our fingers brushing. Electric. Wrong. I yanked back like I’d been burned. “I don’t need your money.”
“It’s just groceries.”
“That you didn’t buy.” I shoved my card into the reader before he could argue further. “Because you came here to stalk me, not to shop.”
The cashier’s eyes widened, clearly sensing drama.
I grabbed my bags, not bothering with a receipt, and pushed through the exit. The morning sun felt too bright, too cheerful for the chaos churning in my chest.
Footsteps followed. Of course they did.
“Madison, wait.”
“Stop following me.” I walked faster, bags bouncing against my legs.
“Let me give you a ride home at least, or let me carry those groceries for you.‘
“No.”
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“You’re being stubborn.”
I whirled to face him, forcing other pedestrians to swerve around us. “I’m being stubborn? You drove from Manhattan to show up at my café uninvited, followed me to the grocery store, and now you’re trailing me down Main Street like some kind of billionaire stalker. But sure, I’m the stubborn one.”
His jaw tightened. “I told you. I’m here for work. There’s a development project near Hartford that needs assessment.”
“Convenient.”
“It’s true.”
“What happened to the army of people you employ for exactly this kind of thing?” I shifted the bags to my other hand. “You’re lying to my face, and we both know it.”
“I’m not lying. The project’s legitimate. I can show you the documents if you want.”
“I don’t want anything from you.” I resumed walking. “Except for you to leave me alone.”
He fell into step beside me again, matching my pace effortlessly. “If I’m really here for work, would that change things?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t matter why you’re here. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“You’re talking to me right now.”
I shot him a glare. “Under duress.”
“Hardly duress. I’m just walking.”
“In the same direction as me. Uninvited.”
“Public sidewalk, Madison. I can walk wherever I want.”
“God, you’re infuriating.” I picked up my pace again. “Don’t you have a company to run? A fiancée to marry? Literally anything better to do than harass your ex–employee?”
“Ex–employee.” He said it like he was tasting the words. “Is that all you were?”
My steps faltered. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I was. Your assistant. Your project manager. Nothing more.”
“Liar.”
The word hit like a slap. I stopped walking, bags cutting into my palms. “Excuse me?”
Alexander stopped too, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. Those damn eyes that still
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made my knees weak despite everything.
“You were more than an employee, and we both know it.”
“Right. I was your arrangement. Your convenient little arrangement that you discarded the second Katherine came back into the picture.” My voice stayed steady despite the old hurt rising in my chest. “Is that what you came here to remind me of? That I was stupid enough to think I meant something?”
“You did mean something.”
“Stop.” I held up a hand. “Just stop. I don’t want to hear whatever justification you’ve spent these years crafting. I moved on. You should too.”
“Have you?” His gaze intensified. “Moved on?”
“Yes.”
“Are you dating someone?”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
