“Vanessa.”
Blaine’s voice from the doorway makes us both turn. He’s standing there with an expression that’s half sheepish, half hopeful. He looks between us, and Vanessa nods at him.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, and before I can protest, she’s slipping past Blaine and disappearing down the hallway.
The door stays open, but we’re alone. Blaine steps into the room, and I back up automatically until my legs hit the bed.
“Sugar,” Blaine says, his voice dripping with affection that makes my stomach turn. “I’ve missed you.”
Nausea rises in my throat. I’m not sure if it’s the wine or this fucked-up couple or both. The room feels too small, too warm, and Blaine is moving closer.
“I know Vanessa’s approach might seem unconventional,” Blaine continues, closing the distance between us. “But she’s right. This could work out perfectly for all of us. No one gets hurt. Everyone gets what they want.”
I stare at him, and something clicks into place. The silver hair that I used to think was distinguished just looks gray now. The eyes I used to find clever now just look sleazy. His smile is practiced, calculated, and I can’t believe I ever found it charming.
I don’t care about him anymore.
The realization hits me with startling clarity. I don’t care about Blaine’s theatrics. I don’t care about his money or his connections or his empty promises. I’m certainly not getting back together with him. I’m not even sure why I was with him in the first place. Was I that desperate for attention? That eager to feel wanted by someone?
“Gabriel.” Blaine reaches for my hand, and I pull away. His smile falters. “Everything is turning out great for us. Vanessa understands. We don’t have to hide anymore. We can be together whenever you want, and—”
“Gabriel.”
The voice from the doorway makes both of us turn. Marshall is standing there, his expression thunderous. His eyes scan the room, taking in me backed against the bed and Blaine standing too close. A muscle twitches in his neck, and his whole body goes rigid.
“I was looking for you,” Marshall says. His eyes are on me, not Blaine.
Relief crashes through me so hard my knees weaken. He’s here. He came looking for me.
Marshall’s gaze shifts to Blaine, and the look he gives him could strip paint. “I wanted to tell you that I’m leaving.” He looks back at me. “Are you coming, or should I call myself an Uber?”
“I’m coming.” I move past Blaine straight to Marshall. “I’m ready to go.”
Blaine steps forward, his hand outstretched. “Gabriel, wait. We haven’t finished talking.”
“Yes, we have.” I don’t stop moving until I’m beside Marshall, close enough that our arms brush. The contact grounds me.
Blaine’s face cycles through confusion, frustration, and anger before settling on a forced smile. “But I thought—”
“Thank you for the dinner,” I say, cutting him off.
Marshall’s hand comes to rest between my shoulder blades. “Thanks for having us.”
We turn and walk out of the room together. Blaine calls after us, something about talking tomorrow, about not making hasty decisions, but we’re already down the hallway, already descending the stairs.
Vanessa is waiting in the foyer with Felicity, both of them wearing expressions of polite confusion at our sudden departure. Marshall handles the goodbyes, thanking them for their hospitality, apologizing again for leaving early. I just nod along, letting Marshall do the talking while my brain tries to process what just happened upstairs.
Felicity looks disappointed, her eyes lingering on Marshall as she walks us to the door. “It was so lovely meeting you both. I hope we can do this again sometime.”
“That would be nice,” Marshall says, his tone noncommittal.
Vanessa air-kisses my cheeks again, and when she pulls back, she murmurs low enough that only I can hear, “Think about what I said.”
I don’t respond. I just smile and step away.
Blaine appears at the top of the stairs as we’re leaving. “Gabriel—”
“Goodnight, Mr. Ashford.” Marshall’s hand on my back becomes more insistent, guiding me out the door.
