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Had she discovered she wasn’t happy after all? Had she decided she didn’t want the girls and me?
It seemed impossible. I remembered her fury the night I’d suggested it, the indignation in her voice when she told me she loved the girls. But maybe once she’d stepped away from the grind of the daily life and had some time to reflect, things became clearer.
I was still standing at the small bar, with my back to the living room, not wanting to see how empty the apartment was. I didn’t want to register what it could possibly mean, because I couldn’t handle it.
If Val wanted to end things, there were better ways to do it than just packing up her things and leaving. What was I supposed to tell the girls? Or was she going to do us the courtesy of sitting down with us and explaining everything? I didn’t know which was worse. Hearing from her mouth that she wanted to bow out, or living with the uncertainty.
The girls loved Val. They counted on her. God damn it, I loved Val.
After giving up on love, I’d found her. And she’d become such an integral part of my life, of me, that I wasn’t even sure who I was without her anymore.
“Carter Sloane strikes again,” Zachary exclaimed the next morning. I wasn’t in the mood to have any sort of conversation with him. I’d been up all night, unable to set my fears straight.
We were on a conference call because I’d announced I was working from home.
“I should have trusted your gut. The Connor case was very good for us.”
Zachary was reading the newest press coverage about the firm. I didn’t bother faking interest. I wanted to get off this call as soon as possible. My head wasn’t in the game today.
“By the way, we received a request for representation from... guess who?” With pride in his voice, he named a Fortune 500 company.
Right now, I didn’t give a damn about that either, which was saying something, since I’d wanted an account like that since we opened the firm.
“That’s good to hear,” I said finally.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“It’s just not a great day.”
I felt a hollow ache in my entire body, as if I was coming down with the flu. Hearing Val’s name had only intensified it. After finishing the conference call, I made to open my laptop, then closed it again. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to work, damn it.
I kept staring at the empty apartment, driving myself crazy trying to find an explanation. I was overwhelmed by a bone-deep desperation I couldn’t shake off. Not knowing was excruciating. Eventually, I broke down and texted Val.
Carter: Got home last night and saw that all your stuff was gone. Laundry day?
I gripped the phone tightly when the words “Val is typing” appeared on the screen.
Val: Not exactly.
A white-hot pain gripped me, as if someone had stuck a burning needle in my chest, pushing it all the way to my back.
Carter: What do you mean?
Val: My things were everywhere... I’d practically moved into your apartment, and we’d never discussed that. And I’ve been poking my nose in the girls’ business a lot... I thought that maybe you didn’t like that I was so intrusive.
I stared at the words. She had thought what?
“Intrusive,” my ass.
I clenched and unclenched my hand before running my fingers through my hair. So I’d been correct in my assumption that she hadn’t just taken all her clothes for no reason. Was this just an excuse to blow me off instead of telling it to me straight?
Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back, breathing in deeply. Was there a possibility that I’d lost her already?
No, it just couldn’t be....
I forced myself to remain as logical as possible even as my entire body was constricting with panic. I’d known Val for months, and I could say with certainty that she wasn’t one to play games. If she had wanted to end things, she wouldn’t have just up and left.
Unless she thought it would be easier not to do it face-to-face.
