Ex- fiance's Regret

Lydia Alison

Five Years Ago

"Are you kidding me?" Lydia cried, glowering at Pete.

He leaned back in his chair, calm as a cucumber, as if he hadn't just broken her whole world.

"Come on, babe. It's better this way."

Lydia shook her head. She couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that Pete had taken her out on a break-up date. Who breaks up on a date?

“How is it better?” she asked, trying not to let her voice tremble or to sound like she was going to cry. Which was exactly what she felt like doing. “We’ve been together for two years, and you’re just throwing it all away.”

“I’m not throwing it all away, babe.” He leaned forward, reaching for her hand over the table.

"Don't call me that," she snapped, pulling her hand away from his. "You're dumping me. You can go right back to using my name."

"Fine, Lydia Alison," Pete said with her name tasting bitter in his mouth. "I'm being nice here, and you're not being very receptive to me right now."

Lydia snorted a sarcastic bark of laughter. "You're right, what a thoughtless thing to do. I'll take notes so the next time you dump me, I'm more polite about it."

He sighed heavily. "Don't be like this."

Lydia crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll be however the hell I choose. You don't get to make demands anymore."

He shrugged. "Okay. Sure. I guess you're right."

Damn straight she was right. Pete was dumping her. Lydia suddenly realized there was no reason she had to be here. He’d said his piece—they were over. He’d already explained that he wasn’t ready to make a commitment. There was nothing left for her to do or say here.

Lydia stood to leave.

“Wait,” Pete said. “We’re not going Dutch on the check?”

Her mouth dropped open. "Get the check yourself, asshole," she spat and turned on him.

Lydia held back her tears until she'd reached the door of the bar where they'd gotten together, and at least halfway down the street to the bus stop. When the tears did spill down her cheeks, a sob racked her throat.

She pulled out her phone and called Deby.

"He dumped me," Lydia wailed into the phone.

"Whatever?" Lydia, my God!

"I know," she said. "He bought me a drink. We shared a beer, then we ordered the greasy pub food I love so much. And then he dumped me. After we'd spent a nice afternoon together."

"I don't believe it," Deby said. "I have to involve Silver in this conversation, too."

Lydia nodded, allowing Deby to dial Silver in on the call so they were on three-way. Her two best friends were saints, always there when shit hit the fan.

And shit had just hit the fan big time.

They'd all attended college as a group. Lydia was an art major, Deby communications and Silver to become a teacher but they'd roomed together the first year and they'd been locked at the hip ever since.

"Lydia, are you okay?" Silver asked when she hopped on the line. "Deby said she talked to you before she put me through."

“I’m fine,” Lydia lied. She felt like collapsing on the curb in a puddle of tears.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Silver said fiercely.

"I left him with the bill this time. We always split it," Lydia said. For some reason or other, she felt bad about doing that. But that was her problem—she was too nice. She always seemed to get walked on because she was nice and she didn't want people to have to go out of their way for her. So, she ended up putting herself last.

All the time.

She had been a secondary character in her own story when she should have been the spotlight lady who received all the attention. And this just confirmed it. Not even Pete wanted to go out with her anymore.

"It's good you made him suffer," Deby said. "I wish you could have gotten back at him more, really made his life miserable somehow."

Silver agreed.

"Don't want to make his life hell," said Lydia. "Just… have to move on."

That wasn't going to be easy. Lydia was in love with Pete. Hell, until half an hour ago, she hadn't even realized something was wrong between them. She was just starting her last year of college, and he graduated last year. They were seriously thinking of moving in together, finding out what the rest of their lives were like. Lydia had been ready to do the long-term thing with him.

And he hadn't managed to see beyond today.

Lydia swallowed a sob.

"Do you know what you need?" Deby asked. "A rebound," she went on before Lydia could guess. "You need to go out and get into bed with some hottie who will make you forget all about that idiot."

"Fantastic idea! Don't waste any time on that loser," Silver agreed enthusiastically.

"I don't know, you guys…" Lydia wasn't exactly the kind of girl who slept around. She was a long-term relationship girl to the core. One-night stands didn't do it for her.

"We should go out," Silver said. "We can get you drunk on alcohol. When you're too drunk to decide if the guy's hot enough to bring home, we'll decide for you." She was triumphant-sounding.

"I'm working tonight," Lydia said.

She walked up to the bus stop and glanced around at the other people waiting to catch the bus. There were only two. One listened to earphones in his head, and wouldn't give heed to her conversation. The other read a book.

"Come on," Deby grumbled. "Call off your shift."

“I can’t do that. Besides, I’m saving up money for…” Lydia didn’t know how to finish that sentence. She’d been saving up money so that Pete and she could get a place after college. Now, that wasn’t going to happen. But she would still need a place to stay, whether it was with him or not. Her stomach turned and she felt sick. God, all of this was so unexpected. And so unfair.

The bus rumbled toward them.

“I have to go,” Lydia said. “I’m working my shift, and then I’m going to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

The girls grumbled that they couldn't take her out for a little while longer, but the next thing Lydia knew, they had backed down, and she hung up on them. She boarded the bus, numb, and sat in one of the seats at the back. She leaned her head on the glass and let the city roll by as the bus made its way through the streets of Los Angeles, taking her home to her student housing.

Her shift at Café Noir started at five and went on until one in the morning. The café itself was a small place during the day, offering food and hand-brewed coffee. At night, they rolled out the cocktail menus and craft beers, and the patrons shifted from sober daytime professionals to raucous students.

Lydia loved working there—it was always a great mood, and because she'd been working at the café almost as long as she'd been going to classes, it felt like a home away from home.

"Hi, Lydia," her coworker Xender greeted when she came to start her shift and he concluded his. "You okay? You look…"

"I'm fine," Lydia answered before he could say the rest of his words. "Just a tough week with classes and exams."

You've got some days off later on, don't you? Then you can have a rest," he said to her.

"Yeah, that's right," Lydia said agreeably, and he smiled in sympathy at her before he left.

Lydia moved over to the counter, ready to wait on the customers coming in for the late afternoon rush, and tried not to think of Pete at all.

It would not be good if she cried over a person's coffee. That was simply unprofessional.

Time went by and orders changed from coffee to cocktails as dinner orders started coming in. Lydia rushed, back and forth, focused on work so that she did not have to even think about anything else. Her thoughts kept drifting toward Pete, and when she forced it away, she was thinking of what Deby and Silver had suggested—a rebound. But she could not do that.

Could she?

Lydia had been in a two-year relationship until today. She'd been envisioning the future. Her mind had been looking ahead of her, not at what she could have now, and not at getting her physical needs. Instant gratification was not even on her radar.

She felt as though the rug had been pulled out from under her.

Two black coffees, and the best stout you have available," a soft voice said. Lydia looked up.

Oh. My. God.

Blue eyes that rivaled anything she'd ever laid eyes on cut through her, and they sat atop a face that would have only been sculpted by angels. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, with sun-tanned skin that made him look as though he jogged along the beach in the mornings, broad shoulders, a sense of confidence, and a smile on his face that flipped her stomach.

"Right behind you," Lydia managed to get out, which was a damn miracle because Mr. Hot-as-Hell's look had rendered her speechless. She turned her back to him and started getting his order ready. Two coffees and a stout—that was the order, right? Good thing he'd talked before she'd seen his face because she wouldn't have been able to hear what he said.

What was the matter with her? She didn't usually see blokes like him. But if blokes were like him, she's sure she would have looked twice. Relationship or not.

As she'd put the two coffees down on the counter,

He smiled at her and her heart juddered.

"Let me just get that beer," said Lydia.

He nodded, and Lydia made her way over to the beer taps to dispense the stout. She grabbed the pint glass and carried it over to the counter and set it down, calculating the price in her head.

He pulled out a thick wad of bills and smiled at her again. Cue butterflies.

"Keep the change," he said.

Thanks. Here you are," Lydia said, offering him a tray to hold the coffee and the beer so he would not have to carry them all.

"Thanks," he said. He gave her that smile and walked away.

The encounter had been simple enough. But Lydia shivered, her stomach knotting once more, and she observed him approaching another table with another man and a woman.

Her stomach dropped a little. Was he already taken?

Lydia sneaked glances at him throughout the rest of the evening as she worked, watching his crew's body language. They were far enough away from the counter that she couldn't quite hear what they were saying, and the more the night revved up and hectic she got, the less she could monitor them. But eventually, the other man leaned in and kissed the girl, and Lydia was somehow satisfied.

They were a couple. Mr. Dreamy was a third wheel. Which didn't necessarily mean he was unattached—a guy that adorable has got to have some sort of supermodel girlfriend. But still, a girl could dream.

They rose and left, and Lydia's stomach dropped once more when the table was empty. She would've adored even to get in a word with him again.

But guys like him didn't get taken in by girls like her.

Just as good. She never had to get hurt one more time.

It would have been wonderful, though, if at least something in her life worked out the way things did in the movies. Because she'd lost her happily-ever-after and all already, she was due some sort of good luck.

Lydia wiped down the counter while waiting for the next person to order. It was almost midnight and it was almost dead. They were in the process of closing up. And then she had to linger and assist with cleaning up before going home.

Someone came up to the counter and cleared his throat.

As Lydia glanced up, she stood immobile. Again, she was caught by Mr. Cdik Eyes' stare.