My Rules (Kingston Lane, #2)

by T.L. Swan

They say that everything comes into your life for a season or a reason. Maybe the reason is that I have to find the girl I once was. To feel whole again. So what . . . my marriage failed. Millions of marriages fail every year. I didn’t fail. He did. This is on him; I don’t know why I’m feeling guilty and beating myself up about it when he sure isn’t. Honestly . . . I’m done with this crap. Tomorrow I start working on trying to get back to the real me. The old me . . . the fun me, the girl I was before I met him. If you always do what you’ve always done, you will always be where you always were.

“I’ve had the worst ten days feeling like absolute shit because you won’t speak to me, and I’ve missed you, and yet all you’re worried about are the feelings of your toxic ex.”

“You know, sometimes I wish I didn’t live on Kingston Lane,” he says softly. “You do?” I frown. “How come?” “Because then . . . we wouldn’t be friends.” My eyes search his. “And . . .” He pulls my spaghetti strap back up onto my shoulder. “And what?” I whisper. “And . . . we could have just met as strangers.” Everyone else in the street disappears as we stare at each other. “And I would have asked for your number.”

“And we would have drunk a bottle of red wine and ordered dessert, and then by the end of the tiramisu . . . I would have known that you were the one.”

“I don’t need to wait for the tiramisu,” he whispers. My eyes search his as my heart free-falls from my chest. In slow motion, he leans over and kisses me, his lips barely brushing over mine, and huge butterflies swirl deep in my stomach. Oh . . . “Why not?” I whisper against his lips. “Because . . . I already know.”

My heart is heavy and painful in my chest, and with the way that I feel right now, I’m not sure if I’ll ever recover. Or if I even want to. Because if I lose this feeling, then there will be nothing left of us. She’ll just become someone that I used to know.