“He’s the right choice for you. It may be hard to see now, but he’s the forever type guy. Blake isn’t that guy for you. This project will end, and he’ll leave.” She pauses. “I think we both know that.”
I nod. She couldn’t be more right. “Thank you for listening to me whine. I think you need some man drama so we can be even.”
“I don’t foresee ever having this much drama, but if I do, you’ll be the first one to know.”
“I’m pathetic.”
She laughs. “I think you’re kind of lucky. I can’t find a man and you have two who would give an arm to be with you.”
“Well, I’m about to go rip the arm off of one because he thinks I need a babysitter.”
“I’m going to stay out of that one,” she says, going to sit back at her desk.
I finally make it to my desk twenty minutes after I’m supposed to be there. It’s no surprise that Pierce is standing there with his arms folded over his chest. His brows burrow at the sight of me. “I was starting to worry about you.”
“I was catching up with Reece.”
“I tried calling you. A few times actually.”
After throwing my purse on my desk, I look back up, my hands firmly planted on my hips. “Look, I’m sorry I’m late. I had a surprise visitor this morning, and he threw my whole routine off.”
“Who?” he asks, stepping closer.
My chest rises and falls. This is going to go over like a nun having sex in the cathedral. “Blake.”
He runs his thick fingers through his hair. It looks like he’s done that a few times already this morning. “I’m going to my office. I want to see you there within the next five minutes.”
Before I can reply, he disappears around the corner. There’s nowhere to hide. Once Pierce Stanley has something stuck in his head, there’s nothing I can do about it. I take my time, filling up my coffee cup before slowly making my way down the narrow hall that leads to his suite. The door is open just enough for me to see him standing with his back to me, staring out the floor to ceiling window.
I quietly slip inside, closing the door behind me.
“I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”
Looking down at my watch, I say, “Five minutes on the dot. Doesn’t seem like you had anything to worry about.”
He turns, eyes narrowed in on me. If he thinks he’s the only one who has something to be pissed about, he’s about to learn a hard lesson. “Why was Blake in your apartment this morning?”
“It’s a funny story, but I shouldn’t really have to tell it to you. You wrote a part in it.”
He takes two steps toward me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“He wouldn’t be in Chicago if it weren’t for you and your demand to babysit us while we work on the project,” I reply, holding my ground.
“You would do the same thing if you were me,” he seethes, hands forming into fists at his sides.
“No, I wouldn’t, Pierce,” I say, lifting a finger to emphasize my stance. “I trust you.”
His expression softens just a bit. “Why was he in your apartment? I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all.”
“It’s Mallory’s apartment. I guess he needs a place to stay for a couple days until he finds a place of his own.”
“Jesus.”
“I asked him to be out by the time I get home.” I pause, a hurtful pain still searing inside my chest. Not only has the shield cracked, it’s disappeared. “Why don’t you trust me? You know me, Pierce. You know what he did to me. Besides, was everything we did in New York meaningless?”
He closes the remaining distance between us while I speak. His jaw ticks, but his eyes don’t hold the same anger they held earlier. “You said you trust me, but how would you feel if I suddenly had an ex-girlfriend working with me. Better yet, how would you feel if she was alone with me in my apartment?”
His words draw a red line through my whole argument. If Pierce had an ex hanging around, it wouldn’t be him I’d be worried about as much as her. If she were anything like Blake, I’d be a mess—a complete, scrambled, twisted mess. “Point taken, but I still don’t think a babysitter is necessary. I can handle him.”
“Like hell you can. He’s your Achilles heal.” He stops suddenly, eyes dancing between mine as he grips my elbows to keep me close. “I know without a doubt that if he’d never left you, I wouldn’t have a chance. I live with that every time I look at you, but I love you enough to try and forget it.” He closes his eyes tightly. “It’s not easy when I know your heart is constantly reminded when you see him and don’t tell me it’s not.”
“What was she like?”
“Who?”
“Alyssa … was she anything like me?”
He swallows, briefly looking over my head before his eyes meet mine again. “In some ways. She always pretended to be happy, but you have more visible ups and downs. I always wondered what she was thinking, but I don’t wonder when I’m with you. The words are written all over your face.”
“If that’s the case, what am I thinking right now?”
Our emotions run parallel. We’re not at the same point at the same exact time.
I need us to intersect. I need to understand what he’s feeling … I need him to understand what I’m feeling.
His fingertip traces a line on my forehead, pushing a loose hair away from my eyes. “You’re scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Scared of making a decision you’ll regret for the rest of your life. I don’t want you to make the wrong choice.”
“I’ve already made my choice.”
He shakes his head. “No you haven’t. You still think about him—more than I’m comfortable with. I think we should cancel our date for tonight so you can decide what you really want to do. I can’t get any deeper in this until you’re sure.”
“Does being done with him mean I’m done with the project, too?”
“No,” he says. “But you have to agree to my terms. He already ruined one woman I loved; I can’t let him do it again.”
My anger boils up again. “Since you brought it up, and I’ve been waiting a long time to hear this. How did he ruin her? He obviously believes it himself, or he wouldn’t be in the position he’s in.”
“He didn’t protect her.”
“And you did?” I ask, feeling his grip on me loosen.
His arms fall to his sides. He stares like a stone statue—empty and emotionless. “Get out of my office.”
I lift my hands, but he backs away. “Maybe if you knew how to forgive, you could both move forward. It should never have gotten to this.”
“Leave.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, I do. The rest of the day I spend every single second thinking about Pierce and every single minute trying to avoid him.
THE APARTMENT IS NOT HOW it was supposed to be when I got home. The light in Mallory’s room shines underneath the door; it’s not a scene I’m unfamiliar with.
I knock on the door.
“Come in!” he yells over the faint music.
Without hesitation, I step inside. I gasp as my eyes catch the single piece sitting on an easel in the corner. It’s serene with a certain beauty I’m not used to in his work.
“What is this?” I ask. “It’s beautiful.”
I pull my eyes away from the canvas and look into his swollen, red eyes. He’s staring back at me, but he might as well be hundreds of feet away. An ache begins in my throat; after everything he’s put me through, my heart is still tied to his. His sadness is mine. I feel every ounce of his pain.
And he feels it. His eyes well up with tears. He knows my heart hasn’t completely detached. As much as I don’t want it to, it’s always going to be hanging by an unbreakable string.
The only sound in the room is “Litost” by X Ambassadors. The melody only intensifies the hurt. I listen to the words—actually listen—realizing it could be our anthem. Our love is like a hole, and I don’t know if I will ever fully recover … ever climb out.