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I listen to the staccato click of her heels resound through the condo. When she gets to the front door, the alarm sensor beeps as it opens then closes. Finally, silence. The quiet is haunting. I have to grab the edge of the dresser to keep myself from going after her.
As I stand there in a towel, holding her ring in my palm, with all the shit of the night whirling through my head, there’s one jarring question that reverberates the loudest: if I’d just done the right thing, why does it feel so fucking wrong?
ChapterEighteen
Dee
The tears fall, spilling downmy cheeks, running off my chin. I know some of how Mick must feel. As if he’s drowning; the secret a lead weight, pulling him further underwater, the truth a lifeline that seems too far, too daunting to reach.
I also know, it’s not an excuse for hurting someone you love.
When the elevator glides to a stop, I swipe at my wet face and exit into the lobby. I lower my head past the front desk staff and make it to the door.
“Ms. Chase?”
I look up to see Stiles, broad and looming. He can’t miss what surely must be my reddened eyes and the mascara tracks staining my cheeks. For a moment, I think his gaze softens with compassion. But it’s gone just as fast, returning him to Robocop.
“Mr. Peters asked that I see to getting you home safely.”
Of course he did. That’s what Mick does, takes care of everything. But I don’t have the energy to argue or any desire to wait for an Uber.
George holds the door. Trained to be discreet, he pretends not to notice my state and bids me a goodnight. I manage a faint smile as Stiles ushers me by. I get into the back seat of his SUV, and don’t attempt any conversation. To be expected, neither does he.
I mumble a thank you after we reach my house and Stiles walks me to the porch. Jordyn’s car is in the driveway behind mine, and she’s waiting for me at the door, which can only mean one thing.
“Mick called you?”
“Yes.” She hugs me tight, her oversize sweatshirt smells of men’s cologne.
“Sorry. He shouldn’t have interrupted your night.”
“Don’t be silly.” She actually blows a kiss to Stiles over my shoulder before she closes and locks the door. “It was skanky of me to hook up with Eduardo,” she says of her long-time friend with benefits. “I was thinking about someone else the entire time. But enough about me. How are you?”
“About as good as I look.”
“For what it’s worth, Mick sounded wrecked. I didn’t even have the heart to blast him. Though I did manage to get in a few choice words.”
“You didn’t?”
“Never mind that.” She air-flaps her hand. “He asked me to check on you. I would have called, but I knew you’d just say you were fine.”
“Love you, Jord.” I hug her again.
“Love you too, chickie. Wanna talk about it?”
I set my purse down on the foyer table and pull off my boots. “It couldn’t have gone any worse. When I arrived, Lisa—the neighbor I told you about—was outside his door.”
“What?” Jordyn follows me into the kitchen.
“Yep. Want some tea? I’m going to make chamomile. Hopefully it will help me sleep.”
“Sure. I’ll make it, though. You sit.”
“Thanks. Let me get out of this dress first. Lisa called it cheap.”
“Jealous be-atch.”
I laugh for the first time in what seems like forever. Jordyn can always do that for me. “I’ll be right back.”
