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“You don’t have to look physically pained by the thought of conversation, Sebastian.”
I knew I was disappointing her. Even with bags under her eyes, eyes bleary from working twenty-four seven, she was still the greatest beauty I’d ever had the pleasure to look at.
And right now she was pissed at me.
But wouldn’t she be more pissed if she stayed here? Because to be with her, more than we were now, that didn’t seem fair to her. In this story, I’m the beast, which means I need to let her go. Unlike the fairytale, this one doesn’t have a happy ending.
Not when she’s fucking Faith Waters, one of the wealthiest, most effervescent women in the world and I’m just me. A man trying to protect the people that matter the most while living off the beaten path, alone with my thoughts and my dog.
Just then our phones beeped, and a deep foreboding fell across the room. I pinched my brow, bracing for the worst.
The Wealthy Recluse - everything we know (so far) about Faith Waters’ new beau
I slammed the phone down, not bothering to read the latest “news” from the gossip sites.
Faith stared at my phone, as if looking at it alone could set it ablaze. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t care about whatever bullshit notification you just received. What I do care about is you and wanting to figure out a way to make this work.”
“I know.”
Faith looked at me expectantly. “That’s it?”
What I wanted to do—what sat at the tip of my tongue—was to beg her to stay.
Instead, I remained silent.
Even Willow seemed to share Faith’s disappointment, the dog getting up and resettling at Faith’s feet.
“Did you finish your latest painting?”
Faith’s jaw dropped, her gaze turning arctic. “You’re seriously trying to change the subject on me?”
“Faith.”
She held up her hand. “Don’t. Don’t change the subject.”
“I don’t want to distract you. Your show is coming up in a few days and you’ve just spent the last couple of days detoured because of me and the Barnes’ deal.”
Faith pushed aside her mug. “Have I once complained about going to Vegas? About my end of the deal?”
She hadn’t. We both knew it.
“That’s what I thought. So, what? You decide now that it was some hardship for me and decide you must know what’s best?”
“You’re overreacting,” I countered.
She laughed darkly. The usual crinkles around her eyes were noticeably absent. “You might not have a sister, but you grew up with a strong woman. You know better than to say a woman is overreacting.”
My heart thudded in my chest. Blood rushed to my ears.
Willow sighed.
“Have the conversation, Sebastian,” she implored me. It was so faint I almost didn’t hear her voice crack. “Have the conversation.”
Words turned to dust on the tip of my tongue.
After a few more heartbeats, ones so loud there was no way Faith couldn’t hear them, she stood, disappointment dripping from her very being.
“Fine. Go fuck yourself, Sebastian.”
