FAR TOO LATE

THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY

Abe pov

"You look like shit."

I glanced up from my whiskey.

"Good to see you too, Marcus."

My best friend dropped into the chair across from me and smirked.

"I mean it. You've looked miserable for a week."

I took another drink.

The expensive liquor burned all the way down.

Unfortunately, it wasn't strong enough to erase the image of Diane Cooper.

Nothing was.

Marcus leaned back.

"How'd the meeting go?"

I laughed bitterly.

"Depends."

"On?"

"Whether you're asking me as a businessman or as an i***t still in love with his ex."

"Let's start with the idiot."

I stared into my glass.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

Finally, I sighed.

"She's beautiful."

Marcus groaned.

"Oh God."

"No, seriously."

I shook my head.

"You should've seen her."

The memory appeared instantly.

Diane walking into the conference room.

Confident.

Elegant.

Successful.

Her curves wrapped in a fitted navy dress that made every man in the building forget how to breathe.

Including me.

Especially me.

The woman sitting across from me wasn't the insecure college girl I'd once known.

She carried herself differently now.

Like she knew exactly who she was.

And somehow that made her even more beautiful.

"You're staring again," Marcus said.

"What?"

"You got that look."

"What look?"

"The one you always got whenever you talked about Diane."

I ignored him.

Mostly because he was right.

He chuckled.

"So what happened?"

I leaned back in my chair.

"She hates me."

Marcus snorted.

"Can you blame her?"

"No."

That answer came too quickly.

Too honestly.

Because I really couldn't.

Not after everything.

The silence that followed dragged me somewhere I hadn't allowed myself to visit in years.

Back to the beginning.

Back before I ruined everything.

Back when Diane was mine.

And I was hers.

God.

College.

I could still remember the first day I met her.

She'd been sitting alone in a business strategy lecture.

Head buried in a notebook.

Chewing nervously on the end of her pen.

Beautiful without realizing it.

Most people noticed her size before they noticed her smile.

I noticed her smile first.

The way it lit up her entire face.

The way it made me want to be the reason for it.

"You're smiling," Marcus observed.

I blinked.

Apparently I was.

"Just remembering."

"Good memories?"

The best memories.

I remembered late-night study sessions that somehow turned into dates.

I remembered sharing greasy pizza on dorm rooftops.

I remembered her laughing so hard she snorted and then spent ten minutes hiding her face because she was embarrassed.

I remembered every single ridiculous thing.

The way she'd steal fries from my plate.

The way she'd sing horribly off-key in the car.

The way she'd always fall asleep halfway through movies.

I remembered waking up beside her on lazy Sunday mornings.

Her curls spread across my pillow.

Her sleepy voice mumbling my name.

Those mornings had been my favorite.

Sometimes we'd stay in bed until noon.

Talking.

Dreaming.

Planning.

She'd tell me about the consulting firm she wanted to build someday.

I'd tell her about mine.

We were going to conquer the world together.

At least that's what we believed.

Marcus watched me carefully.

"You really loved her."

I laughed softly.

Loved.

Past tense.

As if that feeling had ever gone away.

"I still do."

The admission settled heavily between us.

Marcus wasn't surprised.

Neither was I.

I had dated other women.

Plenty of them.

But none of them were Diane.

Not even close.

None of them made me laugh the way she did.

None of them challenged me.

None of them saw through every layer of bullshit I hid behind.

And none of them ever felt like home.

Diane had.

For a while.

Until I destroyed it.

My grip tightened around the whiskey glass.

The memories started changing.

The good ones fading.

The ugly ones replacing them.

Arguments.

Jealousy.

Cruel jokes.

Words I could never take back.

I remembered every single time her smile disappeared because of something I'd said.

Back then I always convinced myself it wasn't a big deal.

Just teasing.

Just a joke.

Just harmless.

Except it wasn't harmless.

Not when I knew she was already insecure.

Not when I knew she trusted me.

Marcus sighed.

"You know what your problem is?"

"I have several."

"You keep romanticizing the relationship."

I frowned.

"What?"

"You remember the good parts."

He pointed at me.

"But you forget how much of an asshole you were."

That stung because it was true.

I looked away.

The bar suddenly felt too warm.

Too loud.

Too crowded.

"I know what I did."

"Do you?"

I didn't answer.

Because the truth was complicated.

I knew I hurt her.

I knew I took her love for granted.

I knew I spent years believing she'd never leave me.

But actually understanding the damage?

That was different.

Marcus leaned forward.

"Did you apologize?"

"A little."

"A little?"

"She wasn't exactly in the mood."

He laughed.

"I'm shocked."

I rolled my eyes.

But despite myself, a small smile appeared.

Because even angry Diane was beautiful.

Always had been.

Always would be.

"She has a boyfriend."

Marcus whistled.

"There it is."

I hated how quickly my mood darkened.

Just thinking about the guy annoyed me.

I hadn't even met him yet.

Didn't matter.

The fact that another man got to hold her now made me irrationally angry.

Marcus immediately noticed.

"You're jealous."

"No."

"You're very jealous."

I pointed my glass at him.

"Shut up."

He laughed.

Then his expression softened.

"For what it's worth..."

I looked at him.

"You deserve this."

I blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"The regret."

His voice remained calm.

"The sleepless nights."

"The jealousy."

"The feeling that you lost the best thing that ever happened to you."

Each word landed perfectly.

Painfully.

Because he wasn't wrong.

Not even a little.

Marcus stood from his chair.

"That's what consequences feel like."

I watched him walk toward the exit.

Then he stopped.

One final glance over his shoulder.

"If you really want her back, Abe..."

Hope sparked inside me immediately.

"...become a man worthy of her first."

Then he left.

Leaving me alone with my whiskey.

And my regrets.

I stared out the window overlooking the city.

Somewhere out there, Diane was living her life.

Laughing.

Working.

Maybe even smiling.

And for the first time in years, I realized something terrifying.

I wasn't afraid she hated me.

I was afraid she'd stopped loving me completely.

And if that happened...

Then I really had lost the best thing that ever happened to me.