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I also hear the quiet crack of a tiny piece of my heart. At least I think I do. If I don’t hear it, I definitely feel it. It hurts more than I care to admit.
Two weeks. I’ve known this man for two weeks and he’s thrown my entire world off its axis.
I jog down both flights of stairs and take a sharp turn around the bottom of the staircase on the main floor, slipping unnoticed out the back door. Part of me wants to walk. The night air is fresh and just the right amount of cool, and I need it. I gulp it in, trying desperately to shake away the tears that want to crawl out of my eye sockets.
But it’s Toronto, and it’s late. It’ll take ten minutes of walking to hit downtown, where the foot traffic is alive and well and I’d feel safe enough. I’m not stupid enough to walk through these streets alone in the dark, so I dig my phone out of my bag and order an Uber.
It pulls up two minutes later in record time, and I ignore his eager attempt at small talk the entire ride home. He probably thinks I’m a bitch. I don’t care. I just want to cry like the foolish, weak girl I am, preferably into a tub of Ben & Jerry’s while soaking in bubbles up to my neck, bottle of wine at my side. No glass needed.
At home, I strip off my dress and throw it in a corner, completely missing my laundry basket. I wash my face and brush my teeth, pulling on a comfy sweater and flannel pants. I want to be warm and cozy tonight in bed. I don’t want to feel cold and lonely.
Deciding against the wine, I walk to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water, swallowing down some ibuprofen, because my head is pounding and all I want to do is climb into bed and drown myself in sleep.
A soft knock on the door has my head jerking up.
I creep quietly across the room and press up on my tiptoes, peeking through the spy hole.
Avery’s standing there in a faded blue t-shirt that ripples across his broad chest, and a pair of gray track pants. He’s already been up to his condo. I’ve been home less than ten minutes. That means he followed me out, left right after I did. He didn’t stay to play with that girl.
He knocks again and I cover my mouth when a surprised gasp tears through my lips. His eyes flick up to the door and I wonder if he heard me. He looks exhausted, about as exhausted as I feel. He’s not smiling, and I have to say, he doesn’t really look like his usual self.
He gnaws on the inside of his cheek and tugs at the dark waves on top of his head, messing them up. I love those waves, love running my fingers through them.
His shoulders sag with a low sigh. “Alright buddy,” he whispers, looking down. “She doesn’t wanna see us. Let’s go for a quick walk.”
My brows furrow. Us? A walk? It’s midnight.
Avery turns and walks away, towing a large black dog with a white and brown nose and matching paws down the hallway and toward the elevator.
He has a dog? Somehow that makes Avery Beck so much more human.
I briefly consider throwing open the door and calling him back, but I know I need to let this go. I need to go to bed and try to do better tomorrow.
I’m just not really sure what my version of better looks like.
***
CHAPTER TWENTY
Claire
I’m seriously contemplating calling in sick this morning, and the reason is my sometimes-terrifying best friend.
Scrubbing my sore, tired eyes, I pull my phone off the nightstand and reread her messages from last night.
Charlee: Where are you???
Charlee: Avery took off, looking pissed. Or sad. Not sure. Barely said bye.
Charlee: Are you okay?
Charlee: Talked to Wyatt. Got the low down on the blonde bimbo.
Charlee: Would absolutely love it if you could respond to my texts.
My mouth twitches. Blonde bimbo. She was beautiful, but Charlee would say that just to try to make me feel better. But her last message has me chewing my thumbnail. She’s not happy.
Thunder rumbles, growling in the sky outside. I let my head flop to the right, staring out the window with no feeling. It shouldn’t be, but it’s dark out. Lightning flashes, the sky glowing for a split second, and the heavy pattering of raindrops starts slapping against the glass. Fitting weather for how I’m feeling this morning.
