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I was wearing a white drapey top, the tightest jeans on the planet, and black stilettos. My hair was tied in a messy bun on the top of my head and I’d done a proper smoky eye with my makeup, layering the dark and black tones to look dramatic, because I felt dramatic. Like a woman who has just left her crazy mother and three days of sex with the best man in the world, a man who she’s maybe dumped, in order to go back to her failed career and wonder if she’s pregnant. That kind of dramatic.
It was a great look, but it was not made for crying. I wasn’t allowed. I swallowed the lump in my throat and put on my biggest sunglasses as I dragged my bags out of the airport.
Why did you leave, Ava?
“I had to,” I said out loud as I stood at the taxi stand. What was I supposed to do, stay in Dane’s penthouse for the rest of my life? Move to Chicago? I hated that city. The only thing I liked in it was Dane.
What were Dane and I supposed to do? Play house? Be a power couple? He was a multimillionaire, and I was broke. He was a geek and I loved fashion. We could barely even agree on a restaurant when we weren’t in bed. Besides which, there was the small problem of the fact that he was my brother’s business partner and no one knew about us. I had the feeling that when Aidan found out—he’d probably find out, if not from Dane then because I was a terrible liar—he’d be angry. My mother had rewritten me out of existence, and Aidan was the only family I had. Now he’d be angry at me, too.
But even though those were big things, they weren’t the main thing. The main thing was that I was barely holding on from one breath to the next. I felt cracked and jagged, lost. Weak. The three days of sex had been a nice vacation from my life, but that was all it was. I couldn’t be with Dane, couldn’t even think about it, while I was like this. Part of me really, really wanted to stay in that penthouse and let Dane take care of everything so I could stop making my own decisions. It would be so easy to let him take care of me. Pay my bills. Solve my problems. Take over.
But if I did that, I’d lose myself. Maybe I wasn’t doing the best job of managing my life, but it was still my life. I’d built it from nothing, and I’d never taken any charity. I’d always made my own decisions, even if they were the wrong ones. If my life needed a change, it had to be me that changed it.
I just had to figure out what that change was. And while I did that, I had to put space between me and Dane.
I could probably have handled it better—a goodbye note was a little rough. Maybe he’d forgive me and maybe he wouldn’t. I’d have to take that risk.
My heart stuttered in my chest as I thought about the first change I’d already made. A baby. I hadn’t planned that, and I couldn’t explain it, except that once I was in bed with Dane at last, it felt right. I was thirty, and even though it made me a walking cliché, the thought of having a baby… it made me weak in the knees. All kinds of things bubbled up with the possibility. My own mother, who had done such a terrible job; my desire to be the mother I’d always wanted to be; the feeling that I was still unfinished, that there was more I could do in life. And if I was going to have a baby, the father would be Dane. He was the only candidate I’d consider. After what we’d been through, losing a baby years ago, there was no one else it could be.
He’d known exactly what we were doing, what we were risking. And he’d agreed.
Which meant that if there was a baby, I’d have to have some kind of relationship with him.
I’d think about that later. In the meantime I took the train to Brooklyn, feeling exhausted even though I’d slept on the plane. Feeling a deep ache somewhere inside me that throbbed and never quite went away. It was hurt. I was used to hurt—I’d been dumped, told I was stupid and fat, ghosted, cheated on more times than I could count. But this hurt was different. This felt a lot like I was missing Dane, and part of me wanted to turn around and go back to him. But it was too late now.
I took the rundown elevator in my building to the fourth floor and rolled my suitcase down the hall, digging out my keys. I could hear the TV in the apartment, and I sighed inwardly. Living with a roommate was part of the reality I was going back to. The luxurious quiet at the Langham was a thing of the past. Now my life would be full of TV shows I didn’t want to watch, noisy sex in the next bedroom, and someone else’s mess in the kitchen.
I opened the door and found my roommate, Tara, sitting on the couch with her boyfriend Rob, watching an episode of House Hunters. Her eyes went wide when she saw me, and Rob suddenly looked like someone had shoved a stick up his ass. “Oh my God,” Tara said. “You’re home.”
I frowned at her, pulling my suitcase through the doorway. “Of course I’m home. I live here, remember?”
“Um.” Tara and Rob exchanged a look that looked a lot like panic as Tara tried to form words. “You didn’t, I mean, it seemed like… we thought you moved to Chicago?”
I straightened my sore back and stared at her. “Moved? Of course I didn’t move. All of my stuff is still here.”
“I know,” Tara said. “But you were going to do some big assignment for your rich brother, and he was sending you to Chicago. We just figured…” She glanced at Rob again, and they both shrugged. “We just figured you weren’t coming back.”
“I mean, your brother has all that money,” Rob added, sounding a little defensive now. “Why would you come back here?”
I pulled off my sunglasses. Objectively, that was a good question. I’d spent this morning in a luxury penthouse, with the hottest man on the planet giving me orgasm after orgasm. And I’d opted to leave and come back here to this shoebox that smelled like old ramen. It wasn’t something a sane woman would do. But, as it happened, it was something I would do.
“I live here,” I said again. “I wouldn’t move out without telling you.”
“It’s totally cool if you did,” Tara said too quickly. “I mean, if you get an opportunity, you take it, right? I’d totally understand.”
“What are you getting at?” There was definitely something going on. “You’re trying to tell me something, so just spit it out.”
Tara and Rob looked at each other again. This was getting old fast. Luckily Rob got up the courage and finally said, “I took over your room.”
“You moved in?” I looked back and forth between them. Tara looked guilty and Rob looked annoyed, which was his way of looking guilty. “Where’s my stuff?”
Tara pointed. Against the wall was a stack of boxes and a couple of full garbage bags. My life, dumped in a pile.
“You can’t just kick me out,” I said.
“Rob already paid half the rent for next month,” Tara replied, as if this was an answer.
“You didn’t say you wanted him to move in!” I said to her. “Just last month you were thinking of dumping him because he never gives you oral.”
