Bonnie felt trapped, pressed up against his chest. The smell of booze, rain, and that familiar trace of Lawrence—something that always pulled up a flood of memories—twisted together and made her feel sick.
It hit her, painfully clear, that the memory of being in his arms was still right there. She could remember every detail from their year together. How he’d hold her, murmur comfort in her ear, kiss her softly, calm her whenever she felt fragile. She hadn’t thought about these things in so long.
And yet here he was again, acting wounded. For what reason? To talk about how much she hurt back then? To patch up the guilt he thought he owed her?
Bonnie remembered what Hannah had said. Her stomach twisted all over again.
“Do we really have anything left to say?” Bonnie kept her voice steady, flat, refusing to let any emotion slip through.
“Lawrence, let me go, okay? This isn’t how things should be between us.”
Trying not to gag, she pried his arms off her, finger by finger, forcing herself to stay calm. “Your wife and kid are waiting for you at home.”
Lawrence flinched at that. She saw his eyelid twitch, but after a moment, he finally loosened his hold.
He looked down at her, quiet for a second, then said, “I’m sorry.”
Bonnie nodded, still fighting the urge to be sick. “I accept your apology. Can you leave now?”
Lawrence kept his eyes on her, noticing how pale she looked. He hesitated. “Your stomach’s hurting, isn’t it? You hardly ate tonight. Let me make you something. Do you have any medicine here? You should take it.”
Hearing that just made Bonnie angrier. The words crashed around in her chest, making everything ache.
Her left ear started ringing, louder than before. It was obvious now—Lawrence really wanted to make things right, to make up for what happened.
That only made her feel sicker, even more on edge.
“Lawrence, don’t tell me you came here after three years just because you’re guilty or can’t face your conscience, because you feel like you owe something to your cast-off, used ex-girlfriend.”

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