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I WANTED TO wake up today and realise it was a bad dream.
He doesn’t love me.
I’m stupid for falling for it again. Maybe even harder and deeper this time. I believed he loved me, like Teddy said.
The crazy thing is I think I was going to turn down his offer to bid together for the well. I hadn’t thought beyond that to what I’d do if we didn’t submit a joint bid, but after Teddy left the other night, I realised I love Clark too much to close the door on us. I love him more vehemently than ever. Teddy was right — I couldn’t watch Clark put the deal to his board, risk his reputation and make a loss just so he could protect me.
I didn’t have to back out, though, because Clark reneged his offer. Teddy was wrong. I was wrong.
I was his rebound. I naively let myself think I could be more than that, but the moment we left Dubai, as soon as we came back to reality, he changed his mind. He dropped me like I should have known he would.
I’m working from home, in an oversized shirt and skinny jeans, no make-up on, my hair wet, just staring at my draft email. I’ve rolled my cursor over Send more than a hundred times.
I have to do it. I have to submit my offer to get into bed with Hassan. I want the well. I want my father’s revenge. I want to wipe that supercilious look from Caspar’s face. I need to show him that his threats mean nothing to me. That he can’t, won’t, break me.
I could walk away. I could do as Clark says, let Caspar win and wait for him to suffer a loss from the well, if he suffers a loss.
But Caspar is the reason my father took his life.
I roll my finger across the mouse pad of my laptop. This time, I’m going to do it. I jump when my intercom buzzes and instead click Save.
I’m starting to get seriously fed up of people coming to my apartment.
“Hello,” I snap.
“Dayna, I need to talk to you.”
My chest tightens and a lump forms in my throat. “I have nothing to say to you, Clark.”
“Good, because I have a lot to say to you.”
My eyes start to sting, again, as if they didn’t shed enough tears when I cried myself to sleep last night. “Please, Clark.” My words are a drained plea, exactly how I feel. “If you care about me at all, just leave me alone.”
“Dayna, I know I’ve hurt you. Again. But I need to talk to you. God, I shouldn’t and there’s a big part of me that doesn’t want to.” He sighs, and for a second I think he might be hurting too. “Have you submitted your bid yet?”
“No.”
“Please let me talk to you before you do. You’re going to want to hear what I have to say. Then I’ll understand if you never want anything to do with me again.”
That thought hurts so much I can hardly stand it. I respond by buzzing him in. That’s the best I can offer.
When I open the door he stares at me, scrutinising every inch of my face. His hair is messy, and he has dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.
“Why would I believe anything you have to say?” You told me you wanted to bid with me because you love me. Then you did what you always do. You showed me you don’t love me at all.
The way his face contorts makes me wonder whether he can read my mind. “Because it’s the truth.”
I leave the door open and walk into the lounge, my arms wrapped around myself, a small protective barrier between us.
The door clicks shut, and I feel him approaching. My shoulders tense at his presence.
“Please look at me. I need to see you.”
I turn to him, but I can’t meet his eye. “Talk.”
“Maybe you should sit.” He rubs his chin, clearly edgy. “I just don’t… there’s no easy way…”
“Just say what you came to say, Clark.”
