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Now is the time for me to step up and be honest with Emree, no matter how hard it is going to be. There is no more putting this off. She deserves the truth, especially after how I hurt her. My only worry is that the truth is going to cause more damage to her heart.
19
EMREE
Why am I following my ex-boyfriend through the dark parking lot and why am I going in the direction of his car?
Me being a pushover would be the simple answer. Letting people walk over me has been a problem of mine, and while I have worked on that, when it comes to Conrad, I seem to not be able to say no. Even though he broke my heart, I can’t help but look at him and still be in love with the man in front of me.
“We’ll meet you back at the apartment, Blaire,” Conrad tells her as he watches her walking to her car a few spots away.
She glares at him and turns her head to me. I give her a reassuring nod, even though I feel anything but assured at the moment. Being alone with Conrad has shown to bring out the poor decision-making part of my brain. For example, what happened in the bathroom last night at the party.
Yeah, being alone with each other is not smart.
The only reason I am silently following Conrad and not putting up a fight is that while I know whatever he says is going to hurt, I need answers. The last week, I have felt lost, not knowing what went wrong with our relationship. If I had done something wrong, I couldn’t think of what that could have been to result in our breakup.
After Blaire is safely in her car, Conrad rounds to the passenger side, where I am, and opens the door for me. His shoulder brushes against mine and at this close distance, I can smell leather and sandalwood, two scents I have grown to recognize as his cologne. Without a word or glance in his direction, I lower myself into the seat.
The drive to my apartment is met with silence. Conrad didn’t turn the radio on, so the only sound is the town’s nightlife as it passes by. Even Conrad’s car is quiet besides the low hum of the engine. With no sound and neither of us talking, I get lost in my own thoughts. Being surrounded by Conrad’s smell and the familiarity of being in his car is messing with my head.
What happens if he admits he was cheating on me with the woman in the bar? What if I was “the other woman”? If he didn’t cheat, how could he jump from being in a relationship with me for six months to bypass even dating her and apparently having afiancée?
Guilt washes over me when I think about how I was trying to move on so quickly after our relationship. While I don’t see Ian becoming a life partner, maybe going on a date may have been too soon and not fair to myself or him. Conrad has my thoughts far too jumbled, and I need to get my head on straight before I say or do something I know I will regret.
Too lost in my mess of a mind, I barely register the drive, and all too soon, my building comes into view through the windshield and the car stops. The tall, four-story building is cloaked in darkness besides the faint and flickering lights in the entryway that leads to the front.
“Just say the word, and I’ll walk you to the door and leave, Em. I don’t want to force you into anything, but I need to explain what’s going on,” Conrad says, breaking the silence.
In front of us, I watch Blaire cross the parking lot toward the door that leads to the elevator to our apartment. Her head moves back and forth as she checks her surroundings. I wait to answer him until I see our living room window light up, letting me know that Blaire made it inside.
“I need answers, Conrad,” I whisper to him. “No.” My voice is harder. More stern. “Ideserveanswers. What you did was fucked up.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Conrad staring at my profile. “You’re right,” he admits. “And I wish I didn’t have to do what I did. You have no fucking idea how badly I wish things could be different.”
None of what he says makes sense because I feel as though I walked in in the middle of a conversation. “Let’s just go and get this over with.” I open my door and step out of the car.
Conrad follows me into the building, and we ride up the elevator. The silence from earlier is back as we make our way through my apartment. He passes me and goes into the living room while I hang up my purse on the hook by the door.
Taking a deep breath, I head down the hallway and enter the living room. Conrad is standing awkwardly at the back of one of the two sofas with his hands in his pockets. His shoulders are slumped, and I can tell by the worry on his face that he is unsure of what to do right now.
He and I both.
“I need to shower,” I announce and go to my room to grab something to change into and then head in the direction of the bathroom Blaire and I share.
If we’re going to do this tonight, we are doing it on my terms. That means I want to get the smell of bar food off me and wash away the sweat and grime from the night.
Once in the shower, I spend extra time scrubbing my body with the new vanilla scrub I got from Bath & Body Works. When too much time passes and I need to stop stalling, I exit the shower and towel dry. Standing in front of the mirror, I apply my nighttime moisturizer with shaky hands.
Once I have my hair brushed, apply my lotion evenly, and change into a pair of sleep shorts and a T-shirt, I leave the bathroom and make my way past Blaire’s closed door and to the living room.
Conrad has moved from standing behind the couch to sitting on the middle seat of the sofa. Entering the room, I take my place on the two-person couch across from him. With his eyes closed and head resting against the cushion, I take in his strong jaw with a light dusting of hair and his perfectly straight nose. Conrad’s hair is disheveled, something that is not his typical look. He is almost always well put together, but given that it is the middle of the night and he spent the last few hours waiting for me at the bar, I wouldn’t expect him to be his put-together self. His face is relaxed as he rests, and I can’t help but feel happy seeing that. Conrad has always carried tension within him, and while he would tell me he was okay, I saw he was struggling with something.
“Okay, talk.”
His head comes up, and his eyes pop open to look at me.
“Hey,” he says lazily. “Sorry I dozed off.”
