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I don’t want him to know I cried over him.
I head down a quiet looking hallway sighting a dark door at the end, throwing it open reveals a broom closet and without thought, I enter it. It’s small and smells heavily of bleach, but it’ll do for now to shield me. I shut the door behind me and finally give in to the sobs wracking my chest.
I’m an idiot.
I told myself not to feel anything for him, not to fall in love.
To keep it light and breezy. To enjoy it for what it was, knowing it would never last., knowing who he is.
But I should have remembered who I am too. I can’t keep it light and breezy when it comes to Maddox, and I was only fooling myself by thinking I could.
I lean back against the wall for support, biting my fists to muffle the sound of my weeping. As I bite back the sobs, tears flow silently down my cheeks. That’s when I hear footsteps approaching quickly. I don’t have the strength to panic or wonder who it is. And when the door opens, I don’t have to turn around to know he’s there.
“God, Ava.” It’s said in a voice heavy with anguish as a thick palm wraps around my wrist.
“Let go,” I say tiredly, too drained to even be humiliated anymore.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” His voice is low and pained, but I don’t look at his face so I can’t tell how much of it is fake. “Let me explain the situation with Nina.”
“I don’t care.” I struggle against his hold as he pulls me closer.
“But I do.” A finger on my chin turns my eyes to his. His features are twisted in regret, looking as broken up as I feel. I want to think he’s truly sorry, but he’s a pretty good actor so what do I know?
“Nina is no one to me,” he says. “We had a one night stand a long time ago, and she has been practically stalking me ever since. I allow it because…. well, frankly her father is rich and well-connected politically, which is good for business.”
I shake my head at him unable to believe what I’m hearing. He’s probably lying but even if what he’s saying is true, it means he’s even worse than I thought.
He doesn’t even have feelings for this girl either.
He’s screwing around with her the same way he was screwing around with me.
He’s using her and playing along to her games and delusions just to get a little extra money. Just to pad his bottom line.
He must have noticed what I’m thinking because he shakes his head.
“No,” he says. ‘Not like that. I don’t lead her on. I’ve told her several times that there’s nothing between us. I have never even had sex with her after that one time. Fuck, that’s a huge reason I asked you to pretend in the first place, so she would fucking leave me alone. She just doesn’t get it. But I can’t tell her to fuck off the way I want to because of who her father is.”
“So, you’re just going to let it be?” My voice is hoarse and tremulous. “You’re a coward,” I say and though his expression barely changes, I know I’ve struck him where it hurts.
“It’s fine, though,” I smile at him and leave, feeling my heart cracking in my chest. “We’re good. If that’s how you want to play it, who am I to judge you? It’s your life.,” Once again, I force my hand from his. My throat is tight as I brush past him and turn right, speed walking to a shiny red door the with a bright "FEMALE" sign on top of it. Only when I reach the thankfully empty bathroom do I feel like I can breathe again.
But with every breath, my heart shatters.
And the tears I thought had dried out, come running down, and I can’t hold the sobs inside as they wrack my body.
What was I thinking? How could I let myself feel something for him? Sleep with him? Did I think I could just get away with it? Was I stupid or just self-destructive?
"Damn it."I look up, trying to stop the tears that are flowing down. "Come on, stop crying, stop crying, stop crying.”
“Ah, I think I recognize this scene.” A bathroom stall unlocks and a woman emerges. She's tall and statuesque, gray streaks elegantly tucked into the salt-and-pepper bun at the nape of her head. Like most of the others here, she’s wearing a dress that looks both casual and expensive at the same time. It's a white sundress that seems tailored to her body, giving boss woman vibes.
She meets my gaze in the mirror and smiles kindly. “It helps if you think something bad about him.”
“About who?”
“Whatever guy that has you on tears.” She turns on the water and washes her hands, but she keeps her eyes on me in the mirror. “Think about all the disgusting stuff he does. Like picking his nose, or maybe clipping his toe nails on the sofa.”
I shake my head. “He doesn’t do any of that stuff." And the tears almost stop.
