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She’d left quietly both times, as if being angry wasn’t allowed. He already knew she was crazy. What had she been scared of?
Her fingers loosened from the rubber band, curling into fists at her sides instead.
The bus driver smiled. “There, that looks better. Good luck, young lady.”
She gave him one more nod, turning away and heading toward Daniel’s condo.
Celia expected to have trouble with the security in the building, but he’d left her on the list of people living in the unit. It made the restraining order even more ridiculous. He obviously wasn’t as worried about her as he claimed. And why would he be when she’d slunk away?
When she reached his door, she didn’t hesitate. The hour was late, so a good pounding would be needed to wake him up. She used the side of her fist, liking the way it thumped against the wood. Not expecting an immediate response, she kept it up, each thump slowing her heartbeat to match.
The latch of the door clinked, and Celia forced herself to stop as it was pulled open. Daniel didn’t stand there. Instead, it was a brunette that she’d never seen before.
“What the hell?” the woman asked.
He wasn’t even with the blonde anymore. The heat spread higher, settling in her throat, which ached to let out exactly what she thought. Celia shoved past the woman, who was wearing only a sheer nightgown that brushed her thighs. As she rounded the couch, Daniel shuffled out of the bedroom that would have been theirs, wearing only his boxers and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
They widened when he saw her. “Celia?”
She shoved at his chest. “Seriously? Another woman already? How many people did you sleep with while you were engaged to me?”
The brunette had followed her into the living room. She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “What is she talking about, Daniel?”
He shrugged. “Who knows? This is that crazy bitch I was telling you about.”
Celia’s hand moved on its own, slapping him across the face so hard it ached. “I am crazy! But that doesn’t take away what you’ve done!” The shrieking was coming from her and she couldn’t stop it. The momentary satisfaction from the slap shifted into panic as she realized the words wouldn’t stop. “You left me with nothing! You let me move out of state, after selling everything, with barely a penny to my name. Who does something like that?”
Daniel stepped forward, his confident carelessness shifting into anger. “Your decisions are your own fucking problem. Don’t put that on me.” His face was so close that she smelled the alcohol on his breath. “Who are you really mad at here?”
“You asked me to marry you.” The fight had gone out of her voice. She couldn’t understand why she had said yes to him so many times.
“And you jumped at the idea. It was my family’s money, wasn’t it?” Daniel sneered at her. “You were using me as well, admit it.”
She had been using him, she realized. Not for the money, she didn’t care about that. She’d used him to feel normal. His family was well off, but loving and supportive. He had a regular job, was easily frustrated, lousy in bed, and made her feel like any other woman in the world. “I really am an idiot,” she said, the anger from before deflating.
“Hell, Celia, did you really expect me to marry you after you told me that stuff about your mother? I only proposed because my parents urged me to, but even they agreed you weren’t suitable after I told them about it.”
“You told your parents?” A cold dread crept inside. It had only been Malcolm for so long. Her hand swept out toward the brunette. “Did you tell her, too? And the blonde from before?”
“What blonde?” the brunette asked.
Celia had had enough. She turned from him, pushing past his latest conquest and heading toward the door.
“It’s the middle of the damn night, Celia. Don’t you realize how crazy you seem, coming here like this?” Daniel called after her.
“You’re right,” Celia called over her shoulder. “I am crazy.” She slammed the door behind her, wishing she could close off her thoughts just as easily. Her energy faded, and she slid down the wall next to it, listening to the shouting that started up inside.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she dreaded pulling it out. As she’d expected, there were twenty missed calls from Malcolm, and nearly as many texts. She read the last one, guilt replacing the anger from before. “Answer. I’m worried.”
It would be so easy to let him put her back together again, just like he’d always done. She texted back, “I’m fine. Talk tomorrow.” Then she put the phone away, wondering how she was going to go home to face Trenton.
The door next to her opened and slammed shut again. The brunette halted, staring down at her. She was no longer wearing her nightie, but jeans and a halter top.
“What are you still doing at this prick’s house? You should be thanking your lucky stars you found out. I know I am.”
The reminder that she really was thankful helped Celia to climb to her feet.
“Come on,” the brunette said, grabbing her arm and dragging her to the elevator. They rode in silence most of the way down. The brunette studied her. “You don’t seem so crazy to me.”
