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“He said he couldn’t make it, something about a business trip in Hong Kong.”
“Oh.”
“You look disappointed,” Ava brags with a knowing smirk. “It would have been perfect. Austin can’t make it. A big, beautiful house with a giant pool, and did I say it is a beachfront property?”
“I’m disappointed for his dad,” I lie, trying to keep my expression to a bare minimum. “You know how Rocky is. He always wants everyone there.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I tried to convince Will, but he said he has been waiting for this meeting for months, and something about trying to get it is like finding gold.”
“When did you speak to him?” I ask, curious.
“Yesterday, I went to his office. By the way, his receptionist, Tabitha? What a waste of fucking air. She wouldn’t let me in, even after I said I was Lex Edward’s daughter.”
I press my lips together, attempting to keep my smile at bay.
“Hey, I’m sorry about our fight.” Ava laces her arm into mine, resting her head on my shoulder. “I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“I’m sorry too, but you know, our fighting is training me to fight in court, so all is not lost.”
Ava lifts her head while laughing, though she keeps her arm linked into mine. “Right, I forgot. So, does Austin know about Will returning?”
I shake my head, then continue to stare in front of us, where Austin walks alongside Dad. The two of them are a father and son-in-law match made in heaven. There is no reason why I should ruin this for anyone.
“There’s no need to tell him, what’s the point? I don’t hang out with Will, nor is there a reason for me to see him. If our paths cross again, I’ll mention it to Austin, but for now, no need for him to know.”
“You’re right.” Ava nods calmly. “Don’t make it bigger than what it is.”
“Well, it’s nothing,” I remind Ava, but perhaps, it is more to remind myself. “You can’t make nothing into something big.”
10
WILL
It’s been one week since Amelia appeared inside my office.
The whole thing caught me off guard. I’d barely held myself together after leaving her inside my hotel room the morning
after her drunken mishap, going as far as to inform housekeeping not to change the sheets so that I could smell her all over the bed.
It was a sick and twisted game I played with myself. Laying there while inhaling Amelia’s scent lingering all over the pillow and sheets. I imagined what it would be like to taste her again, feel myself inside her, and watch her face moan in delight when I hit the spot which drove her crazy.
I couldn’t help myself—spurting all over my hand like some god damn teenager.
But then she turned up at my office, supposedly wanting to thank me. I could see right through her; she didn’t want to offer her gratitude. Amelia was there to parade her new life.
Reminding me of her impending marriage and that she’ll never hurt him.
The anger poured through me like lava. How dare she come here and act as if her words don’t hurt. But it didn’t stop her, nor did it stop her from opening the wound of the past and assuming I had moved on and into another woman’s bed, quick to judge me on my past performance.
If only she knew how much I bled.
Or knew what it felt like to hear the sound of my own heart breaking like shattered glass, the second she walked out of my apartment.
How each night, I did nothing but drink myself into a stupor because I needed to erase the pain and suffering.
How my body became numb to the hard liquor and craved something more substantial.
And how desperate I had become to fall prey to the substances I’d avoided my entire life.
