“Okay, so I know I pulled back. I know you tried to keep in touch with me. I know I had a lot of things on my mind but you were one of them and I should have let you know that and not just through texts,” I said to Robin’s mailbox. “But a lot was happening with me, is happening with me, and while that happened, I made a lot of mistakes. Lots of them.”

I pulled in a deep breath and kept babbling.

“But later tonight, a man is going to ring my doorbell and I know in my heart I won’t be making a mistake opening it to him. But I screwed up so bad picking Conrad, who I knew in my heart was the man for me, I’m scared to death because that man that’s soon arriving and I…it’s been rocky. It’s been…Robin, it’s been really rocky.”

I closed my eyes and started winding it down.

“I’m shutting up now. And I’m hoping to all that is holy that you’re not communicating with me because you’re angry with me and not because something has happened with you and nobody’s told me.”

I turned and looked out at the sea.

“Call me,” I finished. “Please, Robin, call me. And if you’re angry with me, then at least text me to tell me you’re okay.”

With that, I ended the call.

I stopped pacing and looked out the windows.

Suffice it to say, while Bradley was wasting no time (and scaring me a little) driving like a madman to get me home and dump me at my house, he didn’t mind at all that I was ending things.

He also didn’t walk me to the door or even wait to reverse out of my drive and take off before I got to it.

This was beyond awkward and it made me feel like a bitchy slut, or a slutty bitch (no, actually, both).

So after I let myself inside and turned on a lamp by the TV, walked to the kitchen and flipped on the pendants over the bar, I put my clutch on the counter and dug out my phone.

Then I texted him, There’s no excuse for what happened tonight so I won’t try to make one. I’ll only say I’m very sorry. I enjoyed our time together and I’m sad that it ended this way.