I Wish I’d Never Met You
How the hell could he do that? How? Just ask, like there was nothing wrong between them, “I’ll see you tomorrow?” All she could say was, “Yep.” And the sick thing about it, what she hated most of all, was that it would be good to see him again, to work with him again after six months alone. That’s one reason she didn’t just cast him off like he deserved. It was better to be working with him than alone or, for that matter, with anyone else. It stank, but there it was.
She’d never known he could be so selfish. She’d never even guessed, as their partnership had grown, that he could be so ruthless toward his friends, his partner—
She never knew, or else she never would have stayed with him so long. Now, though, now it was too late. She couldn’t even say the things she wanted to say to him. She might lose him for good. God knows, he didn’t need her to be happy. He was happy just with his shield, partners come and go. She’d miss the jerk, was the problem. But, oh, how it galled, to need him after what he’d just done to her.
I wish I’d never met you. There. In the privacy of her own head, she could voice it. I wish I’d never seen you. I wish you had died. Well, maybe not the last one. Still, it would have been cleaner; she would have forced herself to do what she couldn’t do while he was alive. There would have been more grief than anger. There would have been happy untainted memories, rather than memories now seen through a kaleidoscope of betrayal. Mourning could sometimes be the final act of loving. But Goren, the bastard, obviously didn’t need her love. It was her needing to love him.
But, she couldn’t bring herself to wish him dead. No. Death by her own hand (dear God, even now, dear God no) or someone else’s, was not to be thought of. Still, the need to disown . . .
Bobby, I wish I’d never ever met you.
