Page 111 of Solo

“When you refused to give him any information about Kate, Kevin Kilpatrick came sniffing around my office,” Tessa informs me now. “And, lucky for him, I kept his business card. We struck a deal. I told him everything I knew and where he was most likely to find the two of you together. All he had to do was agree to tell you it was Kate who gave him the information. And how convenient! There I was to help you pick up the pieces of your broken heart. Oh, sweet, gullible Drew. You screwing a student is the best thing that’s ever happened to my career. So, thanks for that, at least.” She looks so pleased with herself. I can’t decide who I’d rather kill—her or myself. Quite possibly both.

“Tessa,” I say slowly, quietly, as if I’m approaching a skittish woodland creature. “I had no idea you felt that seriously about it. About us. I—I just didn’t want to screw up our friendship.”

She leans forward across her desk.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. All this time, all these years, you’ve told me you weren’t ready for a relationship. You didn’t want a relationship. What you meant is that you didn’t want a relationship with me. Right?”

She’s right. I can’t deny it. Maybe if I hadn’t been such a coward for so long, we wouldn’t be here—in this ugly, fucked-up situation—now. I take a deep breath and a seat, my eyes fixed on hers.

“I am sorry,” I apologize in a considerably less agitated tone. “I’m really, really so sorry. You’re right. I wasn’t honest with you, Tess. I didn’t want to hurt you, but that’s exactly what I ended up doing.”

She sits back in her office chair, arms folded in front of her chest.

“Yes, well, too little, too late. Don’t you think?”

“I do, actually.”

She seems surprised by this comment and one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows arches with interest.

“Good. I’m glad you realize there’s no going back from where we are.”

When I don’t reply, she seems to soften the least little bit.

“Not that we can’t try to go forward. Start again. With time, maybe, we could get back to what we’ve shared all these years. Maybe even more,” she ventures softly.

I consider her carefully. She’s beautiful. And smart, and funny. Any man would be lucky to have Tessa Morgan in his life and in his bed. Any man but me, that is. I give her a small, sad smile. She returns it tentatively.

“You’re right, Tess,” I say, my voice hoarse with emotion. “There is no going back. But there’s no going forward for us, either.”

“What—what do you mean?” she asks, her well-practiced, hard-ass facade cracking before my very eyes.

“There will never again be anything between us. Not friendship. Certainly not love. At this point, I don’t even hate you. I’d have to care about you to hate you. I could have maybe gotten over your betrayal of me. Maybe. But what you’ve done to Katherine…what you made me think of Katherine…I just can’t.”

I stand up and take Katherine’s bracelet from the desk and turn toward the door.

“Wait. Drew, what are you saying?”

I stop, but I don’t face her.

“I’m saying that we’re done, Tessa. I hope you enjoy your tenure. I hope it keeps you laughing over wine and has dinner with you and goes to movies with you, because I suspect it’s going to be the only friend you have for a long time.”

She gasps from behind me, but she doesn’t utter a single word as I open the door to her office and walk out of it for the last time.

Chapter Fifty

Kate

I am lost, deep within a cloud. I try to move, but this isn’t your garden-variety puffy, fluffy cloud. This one is thick as pea soup and it’s heavy, like a wet blanket pinning my body flat. My every attempt to move or shift or even open my eyes is met by an oppressive resistance. After a time, I just give up and allow myself to sink back into the white fluffiness, my mind hovering within a kind of limbo…aware but not. Alert…but not. Alive…but not. I have no idea how long I hang like that in the ether. It feels like months.

When I finally break through the cloud shroud, my entire body constricts with my effort to draw a deep breath. The resulting wheeze is loud and ends abruptly in a fit of coughing so violent that I sit bolt upright, opening my eyes to a room I have no recollection of entering.

“Katherine?”

My head swings in the direction of my name and I’m met by stormy brown eyes. Drew looks as if he’s been hit by a truck. Repeatedly. His clothing is wrinkled and his hair disheveled. There are deep creases across his face from where it rested against the back of the chair he’s been sleeping in.

“What are you doing here?” I croak.

He gets to his feet and puts his hands on my shoulders, gently pushing me back against the pillows behind me.