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He stares at me in a lengthening silence. “Tell me what’s going on, sweetheart.”
“That’s what I want to know. What the fuck is going on?”
His brow furrows deeper as he reaches for me. This time I jerk away, well out of his reach.
“There was no acting job in Japan,” I tell him, searching his eyes for confirmation of the truth. “There was no friend who stood her up that night she came into Vendange and told me she needed someone to watch her apartment for four months. Her apartment, which is in your building, Nick.”
He says nothing, but I see a tendon jump in his jaw. His lack of denial is all the evidence I need. Maybe I should feel some satisfaction that he’s not going to lie to me some more. But I don’t feel anything except pain.
And confusion . . . .
I think back to my painting—the self-portrait he bought more than a year ago. The image of me that he’s kept with him all this time.
I think back to his words in the stateroom of his private jet—his declaration that I have been his for longer than I know.
“It started with your art,” he admits quietly, knowing me so intimately now, not even my thoughts can elude him. “I saw your gift, Avery. It spoke to me. I’ve never known that kind of pull before. I saw your face in that painting and it touched something deep inside me—something that had been dead for a long time. I felt a connection that I wasn’t ready for. Christ, I wasn’t equipped to feel that kind of pull to another person. I’ve never had that before. I’ve never wanted another woman the way I’ve wanted you.”
“No.”
I shake my head, pushing his explanation away. I don’t want it. Not when I’m feeling so foolish. So naive that I had convinced myself this was all some kind of fairytale. That fate had put us together because we were both broken and alone.
A choked laugh tears out of my throat. “God, what an idiot I am. You actually had me believing that all of this was real. That we were real.”
“We are real.” His voice is a lash, crisp and sharp. “What we have together, Avery . . . it’s real.”
“You set everything up!” My chest is heaving with my gasping breath. My heart is banging, fury and anguish throbbing in my temples. “How did you know I would take Claire’s offer? How could you be so sure that I—” The words dry up in my throat. Because I know. The answer hits me with the impact of a physical strike. “The condo development company. The one that bought my apartment building in Greenpoint. It’s one of yours, isn’t it.”
He takes a step toward me, his face slack with regret. “I never said I was a good man, Avery. I’m controlling and arrogant. I’m used to getting what I want. I’m possessive as hell, but never more than when it comes to you.”
“You used me! You took my life apart piece by piece until you had me in your hands. In your bed. You manipulated me like a fucking pawn on your chessboard!” A sob rakes me. “Damn you, Nick, I trusted you. You let me fall in love with you!”
“That was never my intent,” he replies solemnly. “When this all began, I only knew that I wanted you. I wanted to see your art blossom. And, yes, I wanted you in my bed. Love was never part of the equation.”
“Finally, honesty.” I swipe angrily at the tears that are coursing down my cheeks. “I’ve heard enough, Nick. I can’t do this anymore.”
I step past him, walking swiftly into the bedroom. I grab my purse, my passport—the only things that truly belong to me. Nick is blocking the doorway when I turn around.
“I never intended for things to end up like this, Avery. When I said I wanted to start the clock over again, I meant it. I planned to tell you everything while we were here in Paris.”
“And then what, Nick? Pick up again as if none of this has happened?”
“Yes.” His tone is firmer now. The look in his eyes is dark with demand, even as it implores me to listen. “That’s exactly what I hoped we could do. Neither one of us came into this without secrets, without lies. Neither one of us expected this to last, but it has. I need you, Avery. I love you.”
“No!” My reply explodes out of me. Hearing those words from him now, when I’m standing in the rubble of his deception—his betrayal—is too much for me to bear. “Don’t say that to me, Nick. I don’t want to hear it. Not ever again.”
I push past him, desperate to get away before he is able to make me into an even bigger fool.
He grabs my arm, halting me.
“Avery, goddamn it. Don’t do this!”
I bark out a broken laugh. “I’m not the one who did this, Nick. You did.”
He curses when I pull out of his grasp. He sa
ys my name one more time, imploring and raw, but I keep running.
As I slam the door of his flat behind me, I hear his bellowed roar.
