After Lefting Me On The Bridge He Lost His Mind Chapter 20
He looked at me through the curtain of rain, his eyes filled with a desperate regret.
“I know I was wrong. I see that now. You were the one holding me up for seven years. Without you, I’m nothing. Just give me one more chance. Please… just one.”
I looked at him for a long moment through the half-open car door.
“Truett, do you remember the call I made to you from the bridge that night?”
His face went white.
“I told you I had a high fever and the bridge was closed. You told me to call for help myself.”
“Mavis, I didn’t know it was that serious…”
“You were right,” I cut in. “I’m an adult. I shouldn’t expect you to handle everything for me.”
Rainwater streamed down his face. His lips moved, but no sound came out. He finally seemed to understand what I meant.
“So I saved myself.”
“I can get rid of Chloe,” he said, stepping forward urgently. “I won’t have anything to do with Ryan or the others. The wedding, the house… everything will be your call from now on. Mavis, I’ll change. I swear.”
“You still don’t get it.”
I looked at him, my heart a placid lake.
“You’re not mourning the loss of me. You’re mourning the loss of the person who paid your rent, ironed your shirts, fixed your proposals, and always came back to you after every fight.”
“No!” Truett rasped. “I love you.”
“When I needed you most, on that bridge, you already gave me your answer.”
Just then, the revolving door behind us swung open.
Chloe came running out in high heels, without an umbrella.
“Truett, who did you just say you were getting rid of?”
She rushed up to him, tears mixing with the rain on her face.
“You were the one who said Mavis would never leave, that’s why I made the bet! You were the one who locked the car door! Now that she doesn’t want you, you have no right to dump all the blame on me!”
Truett spun around.
“If you hadn’t been so obsessed with that damn bag, would any of this have happened?”
“Oh, please! You just wanted to see how far you could push her!”
The two of them stood in the rain, pointing fingers, their voices rising.
People lingering near the entrance stopped to watch the show.
A few minutes ago, they were still calling it a game.
Now, to save themselves, they were shouting every sordid detail of that night for the world to hear.
I didn’t listen any longer.
“Jenna, close the door.”
The car door shut just as Truett lunged forward.
He slapped the window hard, his mouth forming my name.
The driver hit the gas, and his wretched, rain-soaked face was quickly left behind.
At that moment, Jenna’s phone buzzed.
She checked the message, then turned to me.
“The bid results are official. Southern branch won.”
She paused, then held up another email.
“And the group’s compliance department would like the full chat record from your iPad.”Â