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“I told you not to wait too long.”
* * *
I was outside her apartment again, but this time, I didn’t intend to stay in the car. As far as I could tell, she was alone. The lights were on throughout the house, and I occasionally saw a single silhouette pass across the curtains.
I made my move and headed to her front door. I grabbed the handle and intended to walk inside like I owned the place, but I steadied myself when reality kicked in. My fist moved to the door instead, and I knocked.
I heard her footsteps. Noticed the shadow behind the peephole. Knew she stared right at my face with annoyance in her heart. Ignoring me wasn’t an option because I knew she was home.
The lock finally turned, and the door swung in.
Those green eyes used to light up a goddamn room when they looked at me. Her smile used to be subtle but carried so much affection. But now, she looked like a stone statue, gray and lifeless, irritated by my presence.
It was a kick to the nuts every time.
“What part of leave me the fuck alone don’t you understand?” She didn’t raise her voice, but her anger was so loud, it split my eardrums. “What do you want, Cauldron?”
“I just want to talk—”
“About?” She kept one hand on the door, prepared to slam it in my face. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Let’s talk inside, Camille.”
“Fuck off, Cauldron.” She yanked the door shut.
I slipped my shoe inside and jammed the door.
She looked like she wanted to kill me. She actually shoved me in the chest.
I hardly moved.
“So this is how it is?” She raised her voice, indifferent to the people who passed on the street. “We talk whenyouwant to talk? I move out whenyoudon’t want me there? Everything is based on your bullshit?”
This was hate. Straight-up hate. Made me feel like shit.
She shoved the door as hard as she could so it flung outward and slammed into the side of the house. “Fine. Oh, won’t you please come in?” She gave a dramatic bow then stormed into the house, past the staircase to a sitting room in the rear.
I lingered on the threshold, unsure if there was any point to this conversation when she was so livid. I finally shut the door behind me and joined her in the sitting room.
With her arms crossed over her chest, she stood near one of the windows. Her apartment was sparse, just a couple couches with a TV propped up on a coffee table. There was no rug or wall décor. She was in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, her feet bare on the hardwood. “The sooner you talk, the sooner you leave. So, say what you want to say.”
I wasn’t even entirely sure why I’d come all the way here. Wasn’t sure what I hoped to achieve when I could see how much she hated me. What we had together was long gone—because I burned it to the ground. “Are you back to your old profession?”
She stilled at the question, as if she expected me to say something else. “What?”
“Are you fucking men for money?” I could barely bring myself to say it.
Her eyes slowly narrowed. “What business is it of yours?”
“It’s my business because you wanted to be free. You wanted to start over. Meet a nice guy. Settle down and have some kids. But if you’re back at ground zero, then why the fuck did you leave me in the first place? Why did you demand more of me when you would have settled for less?”
She was absolutely still, almost as if she didn’t hear what I’d just said. “So that’s what you came all the way down here to say? That you wish I were still yourwhore?”
That came out harsher than I’d meant. “Are you back in the game or not?”
“Why do you think I’m obligated to cooperate with this interrogation? We haven’t spoken in a month, we’re strangers now, and yet, you think you’re entitled to my privacy. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Just answer the goddamn question—”
