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After what feels like forever, the door swings open, making me lurch back into the hallway, and Georgie and Alessandra barge out of the room.
Georgie’s wheeling her suitcase behind her, her regal head held even higher than when she wore that ruby necklace. Alessandra’s wearing a backpack on her back, and holding the cardboard box Georgie doesn’t know I know about. The one containing the documents from Stephanie Moreland’s lawsuit, plus, God knows what else.
“Where are you going?” I choke out.
“None of your business,” Georgie tosses over her shoulder.
I follow the girls down the hallway. “Alessandra, you misunderstood me. I’m sorry if my words seemed harsh, but—”
“Don’t speak to her,” Georgie hisses. “And don’t speak to me, either. Ever again.”
Down the stairs they go, with me following behind like a stray dog.
A new “super-group” is performing onstage now, which means, thankfully, everyone at the party is crowded in the main area, blissfully dancing and cheering with their backs to us. It’s the perfect time for the girls to make a getaway, completely unnoticed. Which is exactly what they do. Indeed, they walk straight out my front door, past security, and into the cool night, without anyone noticing a damned thing.
I follow the girls, of course, talking the entire time. Explaining. Apologizing. Defending. Rationalizing. Fixing, convincing, begging. Yes, fuck it. I’m begging Georgina to stay. To listen. To forgive. It’s something I swore I’d never do with Georgina again. But now isn’t the time to be proud. Now is the time to make her understand. To fix this mess I’ve gotten myself into. To make her forgive me.
But Georgina isn’t having any of it. And Alessandra follows her lead, looking straight ahead like she can’t hear my pathetic pleas.
The girls march down my circular drive toward my iron gate, where four security guards greet us.
“Hello, Mr. Rivers,” one of the guards says. “Ladies.”
“Hello,” Georgina says brightly, her tone oozing with sex appeal. “My, you look handsome tonight, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“We’re here to wait for our Uber,” Georgina explains.
“That’s fine.”
“Are you wearing cologne? You smell amazing.”
“It’s just soap.
“Well, whatever it is, it smells good enough to eat.”
“Georgie, that’s enough,” I say calmly. “Come inside, so I can explain—”
“No, thank you, Mr. Rivers. I think you’ve explained more than enough.”
Fuck. Begrudgingly, I shut up. If I don’t, it’s quite possible she’ll offer to suck a security guard’s dick, just to watch me commit murder and go to prison for it.
Headlights.
They’re shining on the guards’ faces. And then on the girls’. And then on mine. They’re shining in my eyes. Illuminating the blackness of my fucking soul.
The car stops. The girls pile into its backseat and slam their doors, without looking back or saying a word to me. And off they go, just like that, into the night. Leaving me standing at my gate in the cool night with stinging eyes and a lump in my throat.
I stand frozen as Georgina’s car drives away, watching its retreating taillights and holding my breath. Turn around, Georgina. Flip me off through the back window, so I know you still care. Flip me off, baby. Please. Hate me, if you must. Just care enough to flip me off.
It’s my last hope—that Georgina will grace me with the tiniest flicker from her glorious flame.
But, no.
The car is gone now.
And Georgina never turned around.
She never met my eyes, so they could tell her how sorry I am. She never met my eyes, so they could beg her to come back to me. She never met my eyes so I could tell her I’m fucked up in ways I don’t understand. Ways I can’t help. Ways I can’t fix. She never turned around so my eyes could tell her I’ve never felt the way I do with her. She never turned around so my eyes could explain I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to feel this. I simply don’t know.
“Is everything okay, Mr. Rivers?” one of the guards asks.
I look down at the ground for a long beat.
If any other girl had left me standing here, I’d look directly at the guard, smile, and say, “Yes, everything is great. Everything is perfect. I’m on top of the world, motherfucker. The Man with the Midas Touch.”
But I can’t say any of it now. Not when the girl who’s left me is Georgina. Not when the girl I betrayed, the girl I hurt, is the same girl I’d move heaven and earth to protect. I can’t say it now, when it’s Georgina who thinks I’m a liar. Even though, I swear, a solid three quarters of what I said to her was the God’s truth.
I look up and meet the guard’s eyes. “No. Everything’s not okay.” I drag my palm across my jaw and take a deep breath. “In fact, Jeremy. To be honest with you, everything just turned to total fucking shit.”
