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“Where have you been?”
I nearly shrieked when I spotted Andres seated at the table. His back was to me like he was giving me some privacy to dress. I quickly yanked on the yoga pants and shirt, shivering when I stepped onto the cold tile. Temperature sensitivity changed when I wasn’t in my wolf form, so cold was mildly unbearable.
I yearned for the heat of the hot tub.
“Andres, I’m sorry.”
He twisted his neck to look at me. What I saw made my heart stop.
Unforgiving ice echoed from his blue eyes. Frigid arctic walls shot daggers of frozen liquid in my direction, making me shudder as I stepped back.
“You’re sorry?” he said in a low voice. “You’resorry.”
The chair creaked as he stood up. Shadows danced over his face as he approached me, folding his hands behind his back.
“Yeah, I…” I swallowed the rest of my sentence.
Oh, I didn’t like that look on his face. I didn’t like it at all.
He took a sharp breath and exhaled loudly. “Well, Sadie, I can’t say I’m surprised. You always run away from me. You always put up a wall whenever I do anything for you.”
“Yeah, well—”
“I don’t think you even realize you’re doing it, but I’ve run out of patience. I think you might be right about the situation being at its end.”
I blinked rapidly to keep myself from crying. “I didn’t mean that. I was angry.”
“You meant it. I know you did.” His gaze hit the ground. “I felt it.”
That was unfair. “You don’t know that.”
“How can I not? I felt you give up.”
“I can’t give up on something that’s fake.”
He stopped within two inches of me. “You know what, Sadie? You’re right about that. This is fake.” He stepped away. “I don’t know why I got upset.” He retreated to the living room. “My mistake, Sadie. Apology accepted. I’m sure you can find your way downstairs. I’m going to bed.”
Galaxies could have been born in the space he shoved between us. Lively nebulas could have bloomed and died. So much space sat there that I wondered whether I had imagined the entire conversation. That kind of silence was piercing, and it would have sliced me apart if I hadn’t gotten a grip and shut the porch door.
I stared at the chair where he had sat and waited for me. This man had given me so much, and what did I do to repay him? I put up my walls. I ran away. I confused him by saying this relationship was fake when I wanted it to be real.
I kept lying to him. Why would Andres ever want a real relationship with me if I just kept lying to him?
Chapter 18 - Andres
Three days of dreadful silence was enough to drive me mad. Though I’d been used to living in silence most of the time, I had grown familiar with the way Sadie walked across the apartment downstairs. I knew her steps. I knew her sighs. I knew the exact water pressure that indicated her emotions.
Lately, she’d preferred hard pressure during her showers. Small whimpers crept through the pipes from her trying to hide the fact that she was crying. Something happened between us a few days ago, and I wasn’t sure why it mattered so much for either of us. As she so aptly pointed out, this relationship was fake.
How could something based on false pretenses be important enough to cry about?
Agitation only seemed to grow the longer we went without speaking. Every day was a challenge working in the same room as her. While she tapped away at my laptop, I scribbled on the sheets of my art desk, trying to keep my mind from going right back to the fact that this woman was throwing me away when she’d gotten her fill.
I knew I shouldn’t have spoiled her. Sadie had parents that probably gave her everything. The reason her apartment was behind on rent was because she didn’t understand financial independence. Thank the gods I kept her away from the budgets. She would have probably tanked them.
The girl had no real ambition. She was smart, she could follow directions, and she was incredibly organized, but that was the extent of her skills. The job had appealed to her because it was different. It wasn’t anything more than that. She’d probably wanted me to come onto her to solve all her problems.
That was just the thing. Sadie didn’t appear to be a manipulative mastermind. She wasn’t a scheming type, and she rarely seemed to do much else in her spare time other than watch ice skating competitions. She collected those figurines. She kept those books about the aerodynamics of skating, and safety, and other Olympics memorabilia.
