Page 82 of Twisted Truth

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going to Ella to grovel.”

“And you think now is the best time to do it?”

“No time like the present.”

He raises his brows. “Good god, Asher. It’s a miracle you survived thirty-three years without me. You can’t go barreling down to her floor in the middle of work when she’s already embarrassed and make another scene.”

“What do I do, then?”

“You start like every other idiot straight man. You get her flowers. But you’re not every other idiot straight man, so you get her incredible flowers. And you write a good fucking apology in the card. And then tonight, you explain why you acted the way you did.”

“I don’t know if I can do the last part.”

“Then she’s not going to get over this quickly. She was just learning to trust you, and you shattered it.”

“Maybe that’s for the best, to an extent. It will clear the lines back up. But I will apologize, sincerely. I didn’t mean to hurt her, that wasn’t my intention.”

“Whether it was your intention or not, you did. And honesty is the best way to fix it.”

“That’s the thing, Matthew. I don’t know if I want it fully fixed. It is obvious to me from Friday night that I could get very close to Ella, very easily. I can’t let that happen.”

Matthew closes his eyes and takes a long, cleansing breath. “This is why you need therapy, Asher. You can’t live your life keeping everyone at arm’s length because you’re afraid of what might happen to them from living in your world.”

“I’ve hardly kept Ella at arm’s length. I moved her into my penthouse for Christ’s sake. I want her close so that I know she’s safe.”

“You want her close physically, but you shoved her away emotionally.”

“It’s better that way, trust me.”

My stomach twists at the pain I’ve caused Ella, but no matter what Matthew says, things really are better this way. The thought of anything happening to Ella kills me, and it only solidifies my decision. As Ella said the other day, the sooner we can end this, the better. Then hopefully with time, she can slip back into a life of anonymity, far away from me.

“No, Asher. I don’t trust you. Not in this. Your judgment is clouded, and I’m scheduling you with a new therapist.”

“I won’t go.”

“Then maybe I’ll go to the board and make this one of your stipulations.”

“I’ll fire you if you do that.”

“Listen to yourself, Asher. You’re throwing around some heavy threats. You’d rather fire an assistant who is loyal toyou, and you’d rather push away a woman who may very well come to care for you, all because you’re afraid of working through your trauma. That’s not healthy. That’s not happy. That’s not thriving. What would your grandfather think of all this?”

“Get out.”

Matthew doesn’t say another word. He just gives me a smile full of pity and makes his way out of my office.

Fuck him. And fuck the board.

Matthew,the bastard, refused to order Ella’s flowers for me. So now I’m at a florist shop during lunch when I should be prepping for my afternoon meetings. Some fucking assistant he is today.

“How can I help you?” an older woman at the counter asks.

“I’m looking for a bouquet of flowers for my . . . girlfriend.” The word feels strange in my mouth.

“A special occasion?”

“No, nothing like that. These are for?—”