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But the universe has other plans. Just as he’s opening his mouth to respond, my phone goes off.
I sigh and reach down into my pocket. I swear, if Mr. Haymore is calling me, I might quit right now.
But it’s worse. It’s Ian.
The bottom drops out of my stomach. It’s been several days since I left him that message. Why is he calling me now?
“What’s wrong?” Ward asks.
I shake my head, not knowing how to answer. I also don’t know what to do—answer it and deal with the way I ended things? Or ignore it and enforce this whole cutoff thing? I’m not sure which one is the stronger path.
“Addison?”
I look up at Ward. There’s concern in his azure eyes. What am I supposed to say here?
“I… probably should deal with this,” I tell him.
He nods, but he doesn’t look satisfied by that answer. “I should probably be getting back to work anyway.”
I wait until Ward’s gone before answering.
“Hey,” I say nervously.
There’s a long silence on the other end, and for a minute I’m afraid I’ve missed the call. But then I hear the slow release of Ian’s breath.
“That’s it, then?” he says finally. “After everything, you’re going to break up with me in a message?”
My heart seizes. He’s right, of course—it was a crappy thing to do. At the time, I told myself I was being responsible, refusing to drag it out any longer than I already had. But that was just another opportunity to take the easy way out, wasn’t it?
“Ian, I—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Another exhale, barely controlled. “I waited a few days, thinking you might come to your senses. Thinking you might at least have the decency to come talk to me in person.” He makes a short, bitter sound of disbelief. “What happened to you, Lou? When did you become the kind of person who just blows people off like garbage?”
The truth is, I don’t know. Maybe I’ve always been this way.
“I’m so sorry, Ian,” I say.
“No. An apology isn’t going to cut it this time.” I’ve never heard him sound this angry, not even back in Chiang Mai. “Look, I don’t care if you want to be with me or not. But fuck me if I’m going to let you treat me like some fucking puppy you can just lead around by the nose.”
As he’s already mentioned, nothing I say is going to cut it. Nothing is going to erase the way I’ve treated him.
“I’m trying to be better,” I whisper finally. “I’m trying, I promise I am.”
“By what? Playing house at your old estate? By breaking the law and lying to everyone? That part of your life is over, Lou. You have to grow up and face that.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t want to listen to one of his lectures. I can’t take this right now.
He must realize how harsh he sounds, though, because when he speaks again, I can tell he’s trying to be calmer, even if he can’t quite manage it.
“You need to get away from that place,” he says. “Go back to your brother’s for a while. Or stay with some friends. It doesn’t matter where you go.”
I shake my head, even though I know he can’t see me. “I need to be here.”
“Why, Lou? Why the hell do you need to be there?”
He’s asked me that question before. And I’ve asked it of myself a hundred times. Sometimes I think the answer changes day by day.
“I’m tired of running,” I tell him. “I’m tired of being a coward. I want to do the brave thing.”
“Even if it’s the wrong thing?”
I close my eyes. “It’s not the wrong thing for me.”
“Fuck, Lou, this is insane. This is illegal. You’re lying. I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish there or what you think they’re going to do when they find out who you are, but it’s not going to end well.”
I shake my head again. “What’s the alternative? That I spend my life running?”
“This isn’t about running. This is about learning to let things go. To be an adult for once and take responsibility for yourself and your actions.”
What does he know about letting go? What does he know about having your entire life torn out from under you?
“I’m sorry, Ian,” I say.
“Lou, I—”
“I’m sorry,” I say again because there’s nothing else left to say.
“Don’t shut me out,” he says, and I can tell he’s getting worked up again. “You’re better than this, Lou.”
Am I, though? I already know I’m a mess right now. I don’t need to hear it from Ian’s lips. Not again.
“Goodbye, Ian.”
“Lou—”
“Goodbye.”
And then I hang up on him. For the last time.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I lean against the wall for a long time after we hang up.
I deserved that. I deserved every word he said. And I know I’m going to be carrying around the shame of this for a long time.
I close my eyes and try to find the emptiness deep inside of me. I know it’s buried in there somewhere. The hard part is over, and now I just want to drown in numbness for a while.
But it’s not enough.
I don’t stop to think about what I’m doing. I shove my phone in my pocket and head down to the eastern wing of the house.
Ward’s exactly where he said he’d be. There are a couple of other contractors down here, too, all helping with the moldings, but I don’t give them a second glance.
Ward looks up as I draw closer, and his face brightens. I answer with a very wicked expression of my own, then continue past without a word. I wouldn’t want any of the other workers to hear.
He gets the hint.
I continue down the hall, and I don’t even have to glance over my shoulder to know that Ward is following at a respectable distance behind me. My chest warms and goose bumps prickle across my scalp. I can feel his heated gaze on my back, and it makes me shiver in anticipation.
I consider leading him back to my room, but that’s much too far away right now. Instead, I turn down one of the quieter halls.
As soon as we’re out of sight of the other workers, Ward grabs my hand from behind.
“This way,” he says, his voice low and husky.
I let him lead me. He takes me down the hall and up the small staircase at the end. We duck inside the first bedroom we see, and though I reach for him, impatient, he shakes his head.
