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Yeah, call me later. After you’re done fucking Cian.She’d never called, which made it ten times worse. Too busy having sex? Too busy coming down from the best orgasm of her life? Had he shared his pain with her too? The burning sensation in my chest grew, and I buried my face in my pillow. It was different this time. The betrayal, the hurt. I hadn’t even felt this way when I had found Dalton in bed with my sister. Not even close. How could I have been so stupid? Juliet had been right all along. I had been deceived by good sex. Great sex. With the Devil.
My pillow was damp, and I threw it on the floor with the two others I had ruined with streaks of runny mascara. I’d tossed and turned all night, sleep eluding me. Every time I’d closed my eyes, I’d seen his face, then Iva’s. It was enough to drive me completely mad. At about three in the morning, I’d reached for my pint of ice cream on my dresser, halfway melted. Not even that could bring me peace. I’d found myself muttering and manically pacing around the living room hours later until I’d finally collapsed on the couch and fallen asleep.
I texted Owen when I woke and told him I would be out again. I didn’t care about anything at the moment. Not the business, not the fiancée contract. Nothing. I just wanted to drown in my own pity. I was numb inside. Empty. How was I going to come back from this? My heart was split into a million tiny pieces, and the one person who could make me feel better wasn’t even talking to me. I checked my phone for the hundredth time. Still no calls or texts from Juliet.
I ordered a box of doughnuts and had them delivered, one of every flavor. The delivery guy eye’s widened when he saw me. Hell, I didn’t blame him. I had caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror, and it was not a pretty sight—hair tangled, halfway hanging out of a ponytail; puffy raccoon eyes; and don’t forget about the glob of cheese that ran halfway down my shirt.
I grabbed the boxes from him and squeezed them against my chest. “I’m having a breakfast party,” I mumbled, my voice flat, and handed him a hundred dollars.
“Wow, thanks, lady.” His smile stretched from ear to ear, and his happiness only reminded me I was completely miserable. I slammed the door on his face and spent the next three hours watchingGilmore Girlsand falling into a sugar coma.
Which was exactly how Owen found me later that day, when he showed up unannounced. He stood in the middle of the living room, his hands on his hips as he eyed the tornado of blankets, pillows and food cartons surrounding me.
“OK.” He clapped his hands together. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Juliet, and even Thora. I don’t know if this is some weird chick fight you guys are in, but this”—he pointed around the room and then at my face—“and that is not healthy, Nova.”
I stopped mid-chew, the doughnut falling from my fingers as the tears came rolling down my face. My shoulders shook as I sobbed, and I covered my face with my hands. Oh, God, this was what I was reduced to now. A pathetic sap who couldn’t keep it together.
“No, no, no, stop that.” He put down his bag and sat next to me on the couch. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be OK. You guys will make up and everything will go back to normal. Like it was.” He pulled my hands from my face and squeezed them. “You’re one of the toughest women I know, and I have six sisters. It’s all going to be OK.”
I let him pull me into a hug and tried to resist the temptation to rub my runny nose on his shirt. He pulled back and sighed. “Look at you, woman. You’ve got what I hope is chocolate frosting on your forehead.”
He chuckled, and I cracked the first smile in days. I laughed with him and bit my bottom lip. “You really think it’s going to be OK?”
“Of course it is. I’ll help you with whatever you need.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a bag labeled Manly Wipes and handed me one. “But first, clean up your face. You look like you’ve been living under the bridge downtown for months.”
I swatted his hand away and laughed. “Give me that stupid thing.”
Owen stayed a while longer, helping me pick up the trash and clean up. I’d never realized how great he was. I mean, obviously he was an exceptional employee, but this? Him supporting me when he knew I needed someone? It was enough to make me cry, which I tried to hide so he wouldn’t scold me. He even watched an episode ofGilmore Girlswith me.
When my doorbell rang a little while later, I raised my eyebrows and peeked behind Owen at the door. Who the hell would ring my bell? Maybe it was crazy Miss Swanson, coming by to tell me her demon cat said I was being too loud again. I looked at Owen and narrowed my eyes. His face was flushed, his hands gripping his knees. “Are you expecting someone, Owen?”
He breathed deeply and scrunched up his nose. “Don’t be angry.”
Oh, God, what now? Who could he have possibly called? “Who’s at my door, Owen?” I stood, my eyes widening like I was a panicked deer in the headlights.
“You were so upset, and I was really worried. And Juliet wasn’t answering, and Thora stopped responding to my texts. So I did what I thought you would want.” He looked down the hall as the doorbell rang again. “I called your fiancé. Pretty sure that’s him. I would get that if I were you. He seems like an impatient guy.” Owen grabbed his bag and put it over his shoulders.
I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. Ryzen was here. Like right now. God knew what the hell Owen had told him. I wasn’t ready for this. None of it. The last thing I wanted was to talk to Ryzen about how I was feeling. I was gonna kill him—Owen, not Ryzen. Well, maybe both of them. I had listened to enough serial killer podcasts to know how to get away with it. But that was what they all thought, the killers. And boy, were they usually wrong.
“So I gotta go, but see you tomorrow?” Owen ducked when I threw half a chocolate doughnut at his face.
“You’re in big trouble, Owen.”
He rubbed the sweat from his forehead and chuckled. “Well, not as much as you are if you don’t answer the door.”
Oh, great, he was right. There was no avoiding this. I had to face Ryzen at some point. Why not let it be when I was at my absolute lowest? That’d be fun. I waved my hands at Owen to go down the hallway, regretting that I hadn’t rubbed snot all over his shirt earlier.
I swung the door open, and Ryzen rushed in. He had dark circles under his eyes, his lips in a flat line.
“Nova, thank God.” He pulled me into a tight embrace, my hands falling to my sides. He pulled back and looked me up and down. “Are you all right? I came as quick as I could.” He glanced at Owen. “Thank you for calling me. I’ll take it from here.” He nodded his head in the direction of the door and Owen scurried away, shutting the door behind him.
“Tell me what’s the matter. He said something terrible was happening. Is it your grandmother? Is she OK?” Ryzen held me by the hand and dragged me towards the couch.
“Ryzen, I’m fine.” I rubbed my hands over my face. Like I could really tell him why I was so upset and disheveled. “Grams is OK.” Well, shit, at least I thought she was. I hadn’t spoken to her since this whole fiasco had started. I should get on top of that.
He tugged me down on the couch and held my hands in his. “I was so worried, Nova.” He dipped his chin down and closed his eyes.
At least I wasn’t the only one who looked a mess. His hair was disheveled, tie lopsided, and he looked tired. Exhausted, even. He was usually so put together, but this, this was not a composed Ryzen.
