She was still kneeling on the floor, arms reaching toward me. The expression on her face indicated that she thought she’d won. That she’d managed to convince me we belonged together.
“We’re done,” I told her. “You need to leave.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What?”
Claudia never did know how to take no for an answer. If I was going to get rid of her, I knew I had to be firm. There had to be no question that whatever had existed between us was over. For good.
“Whatever my mother tells you, this isn’t happening,” I said. “We’re not getting back together and we’re not getting married. It’s over. It’s been over for a long time.”
I considered telling her that Emzee was pregnant—that there was now a baby in the equation. Because I knew for a fact that Claudia would die before she’d volunteer to be a stepmother. But I didn’t want to use my child like that.
“I’ve moved on with my life,” I add. “It’s time for you to move on with yours.”
Claudia finally stood up, her hands on her hips. “You can’t be serious. You’re not really going to choose her over me. I mean, come on. Look at me.”
I did. I gave her a long, hard look.
“I’ve already chosen her,” I said. “And I’llalwayschoose her. What’s it going to take to get through to you? I don’t want you.”
The predatory gleam seemed to go out of her eyes, her shoulders slumping just a little.
“You’re going to regret this,” she practically spit at me, eyes narrowing.
I was tired of talking about it. I’d told her in every way I could think of that we were through. I was done, and I wanted her gone.
I could see into my bedroom behind her, and I spotted her suitcase, open on the floor, her clothes spilling out onto the rug. I stalked past her, into the room, and started shoving her things back inside.
“What are you doing?” Claudia said, following me.
It finally seemed to occur to her that I was actually serious. That I wanted her to leave.
“I’m throwing you out,” I said, zipping the suitcase and picking it up. “And I want my key back before you leave.”
She crossed her arms stubbornly, but I scanned the room and saw a key sitting on my dresser. Claudia saw me notice it, but I grabbed it before she could and shoved it into my pocket.
“I’m not leaving,” she said, practically stamping her feet.
“Yes, you are,” I told her and grabbed her arm.
I didn’t care that she wasn’t wearing clothes, that her whole damn body was on display for anyone who might pass by. I dragged her out of my bedroom, one hand on her arm, the other holding her suitcase, and dumped her into the hallway. Then I dropped her bag and shut the door to my apartment behind me.
As I locked it, I heard a loud squeal of annoyance from the hallway. I ignored it.
Claudia must have finally understood what I was telling her, because the next time I popped my head out into the hallway, it was empty.
She was gone.
I’d never felt better.
Emzee
Chapter 19
When I stormed out of Ford’s apartment, it didn’t occur to me for a second to head back to my own place. Instead, I marched straight out of the building and down the street, not slowing down until I found myself in the Prohibition Era-themed cocktail lounge on the corner. It was the perfect place to curl up in a booth and brood. Nothing but dim lights, dark wood, exposed brick, and pressed tin ceiling tiles as far as the eye could see. It was also pleasantly uncrowded this early in the evening, with maybe a dozen people total.
Sidling up to the bar, I looked up at the chalkboard menu.
That was when it hit me all over again—I couldn’t drink.
