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“Okay. Good. Let me know how it goes?”
My smirk grew as I finally took in her demeanour, and she was unusually agitated. “Why does it feel like you expect him to say something scandalous?”
She blinked. “Uh. Don’t know. I guess I just know him?”
“Sure,” I said. “Why not.”
I decided not to press her. She was probably just nervous about her next Art retreat. If she wanted to talk about it, there was nothing I could do to stop her. If she didn’t want to talk to me about it, there was also nothing I could do about it.
Harlow
I’ll meet you at the café in ten minutes.
“In the meantime, can I bring you back a croissant?” I asked her.
“Yes, please. That would be awesome.”
Apollo
I’ll be there.
Thank you, Harlow.
I collected up my phone, grabbed a jacket, and headed down to the café.
On the way, I saw Wyatt and Smith. They both inclined their heads to me in deference.
“Harlow,” Smith said evenly.
I nodded back to them. “Boys.”
“Have a nice day,” Wyatt said.
It was pathetic really, the inane small talk they directed at me now. But instead of feeling outside it all like I used to, I felt above it all. Abovethemall. They’d raised me up onto that pedestal that Apollo had once had me on, and they worshipped me accordingly. To them, I was the Goddess of Saint Benedicts and, while I still showed the world the pastel-wearing proper lady, they all knew I had claws when I needed them. They also knewno onewas safe from those claws.
It wasn’t what I’d wanted at the start of the year, it wasn’t what I’d envisioned when Apollo and my relationship inevitably changed, but I found I was fine with it. It was preferable, actually. Had they tried to buddy up to me, it might have been harder to maintain the lie that Apollo and I were still the happy couple. As it was, I had to be aloof and cold, pretending I was so full of myself as the properly crowned Goddess of Saint Benedicts, because no other explanation would hold.
When I walked into the café, Apollo was already there, tucked away in a back corner where we’d have some privacy. I saw he had two cups between him and assumed that he’d ordered for me, so I made my way straight there.
“Harlow,” he said, with his warm fake smile.
“Apollo.” My smile was just as warm and just as fake. I leant down to kiss his cheek before taking the seat across from him. Always the charade. “What did you want to talk about?”
He nodded. “Okay. Straight into it. Fair.”
We leaned closer together to aid in both the pretence of being madly in love and to avoid being overheard.
“I won’t try apologising again. I know it won’t help. Instead, I want to talk to you about how we break the news to our fathers.”
“About what?” I asked.
“About us. About the fact there won’t be a wedding.”
“We can’t just break the contract, Apollo. Do you even know what’s at stake?”
He levelled a look on me. “I know better than you, Harlow, but it’s the least I can do after I fucked up so badly.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “You’re damn right it’s the least you can fucking do, but I won’t have people die because you couldn’t keep it in your pants!” I hissed.
