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“Bullshit,” I snap, still holding firm at the door.
“Temper, Natalie,” Blake warns, then sighs and adopts his smile again like a tired adult. “Look, I’m willing to work some magic with the tabloids for you. Nat, I can’t stop thinking about you, about everything that went wrong. I can fix this.”
I’m trying desperately to register everything that’s happening. At one point, maybe long ago, I would have loved to hear this kind of confession. That he still cared, that he wanted to fix things. But now, I know his heart.
“Nat, do you hear me? I can fix this… if you’re willing to give us a shot.” He closes the distance between us and I’m too shocked to move. “We’ve still got thirty days before the paperwork gets filed anyway, right? Come on, baby, give me another chance and I’ll make it up to you.”
His hand slides up my chest to caress my cheek. That snaps me out of my stupor. In a rage, I slap his hand away from me, and he recoils with a whiney “ouch”. It reminds me of Gabby Green, and I see red.
“Bullshit, Blake! All you do or say is bullshit! Your company, your tabloid, our fucking disaster of a marriage — it’s all bullshit! If you cared about me at all, you wouldn’t have published that article in the first place, you, you snake!” I push him hard in the chest and off my threshold.
I’m panting, clinging to the door as my arms tremble in fury. Blake looks shocked for a moment before his face slides into a sinister grimace. I don’t care. The last thing I want is to see this prick ever again.
“You’re gonna regret that, Natalie. I promise you.” With a snarl, he fixes the lapels on his suit, and I slam the door in his face before he can say another word. The walls shake and dust drifts from the ceiling.
I lock the door and step back, crossing my arms in front of my chest for comfort. I look around at my fresh new hovel, and think,he’s right.I already regret it so much.
My chest tightens.Even Roger?
I lean against my tiny stove and let my head fall into my hands. I just don’t know anymore. How can I trust myself with a man if I fell for all of Blake’s crap? Would I know any better if Roger was different?
I mean, I fell in love with Blake in good faith. I seriously, truly believed we could make each other happy. He had me hook, line, and sinker, and even when the infidelity started, I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.
Blake would never do that to me, I’d thought,he loves me. He wouldn’t hurt me.The signs were there, of course. The way he’d ruin people’s lives with his shitty tabloid, the zeal behind every disgusting photograph or false story. It was telling.
I tell myself that Rogerisdifferent, right? He wants to help, respects my independence, and is constantly extending his wealth and generosity on my not-so-ideal situation with no strings attached.
But, what if my regret isn’t leavingRogerbehind, but leaving his generosity behind? I do miss it. I worked hard my whole life to be in that suite, to be able to afford the things I love and dote upon those I care for.
Nowthis.
I see a crusty old mousetrap in the corner, the roach poison and the years of caked-on grease lining the corners of the kitchen pantry.
Faced with all these changes and new circumstances, how can I say for certain what my feelings are toward Roger?
