Wait . . .
Wait a goddamn second.
Is he actually accusing me of telling Ellie our entire engagement is a hoax? He can’t possibly be doing that.
But when I look him in the eyes, take in his heavy breaths, the steeliness of his jaw, the emptiness of his eyes . . . I see that’s exactly what he’s doing.
“You think I said something to Ellie?” I ask, just needing to confirm his assumption.
“Yes,” he says in an exasperated tone. “Dave is telling people about our fake engagement, ruining my reputation, and I want to know what you told Ellie so I can see how fucked I really am.”
Yup, he’s blaming me.
He thinks I’d go behind his back. He thinks I’d so easily betray him like that.
After all of those conversations about the contract, after all those threats, he really believes I wouldn’t care, that I’d say something anyway.
Not only does that make me incredibly angry, but . . . a wave of emotion clogs my throat, because that breaks my heart. That he’d think so lowly of me.
Unable to muster up the courage to have this conversation with him, I turn on my heels and walk away. The early signs of a panic attack start to surface as my breath shortens and my chest tightens.
I can’t believe that he thinks I’d say something. That he doesn’t trust me.
I stalk up the stairs.
I hear him call out, “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
I don’t stop, I don’t even stumble as my feet move faster than my body.
Instead, I propel myself forward, and when I reach my room, I slam my door and reach behind my back for the zipper of my dress. I struggle to reach it for a few seconds, and just as I grab it and pull down, unzipping my dress, the door to my bedroom flings open.
“Are you going to answer me?” Huxley asks as I step out of the dress and heels, leaving them on the floor.
I turn to the closet and throw on a pair of jean shorts and the only simple T-shirt in there, which is the Fleetwood Mac shirt he got me. It’ll have to do. I slip on a pair of my sandals and grab my phone from my nightstand. I’m about to storm past him when he blocks the door.
“Lottie, I need to fucking know.”
“Why do you need to know?” I ask him. “It seems to me as though you’ve already made up your mind.”
“Are you saying you didn’t say anything?”
“The fact that you even have to ask that is so incredibly insulting.”
“That’s not an answer,” he says.
“You want an answer?” I reply, trying to hold on to my composure as best as I can. “Fine, here’s your answer. No, I didn’t say anything to Ellie, because, despite what you might think of me, despite how horribly you treated me in the beginning of all of this, I still found it within myself to be loyal and keep our secret just that . . . our secret.”
I go to move past him, but he stops me. His facial features have softened now, and so has his voice. “You . . . you really didn’t say anything, Lottie?”
“No. I didn’t.”
His eyes search mine and his expression slowly turns to one of regret.
“Shit, Lottie. I’m—”
“Don’t,” I say, holding up my hand. “Don’t even bother.” Able to catch him off guard, I slip past him and head down the stairs, him trailing behind me.
I barely register his pleading for me to stop over the pounding of my own heart, over the sound of it cracking, shattering.
I thought we trusted each other. I thought we’d established a connection, a bond so strong that nothing could penetrate it. I thought we were moving toward more, but apparently, I was wrong, because, with the flip of a switch, he turned on me.
How could he possibly ever accuse me of such a thing? Have I not proven myself? Have I not done everything he’s asked, and done it exceptionally well? Have I not shown how he can trust me?
I charge toward the front door, where Huxley catches up to me.
“Lottie, wait.” He steps in front of the door, his breathing labored. “I’m sorry. Okay? That was stupid of me to ask.”
“You didn’t just ask, Huxley, you accused.”
“I know.” He pulls on his hair. “I was thrown off, okay? I wasn’t expecting to hear that Dave knows about the fake engagement.”
“So, the first thing you do is blame me?”
“No, I mean—hell, I was told Ellie told him. What was I supposed to think?”
“What were you supposed to think?” I ask incredulously. “You were supposed to trust me. You were supposed to approach me with the problem so I could help you find the solution. But you shouldn’t have come charging in here, blaming me. Not when I was—” I catch myself before I admit to what I was going to tell him tonight.
“Not when what?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing.” Raising my chin, trying to be calm, I say, “I should’ve known this was all too good to be true, that you were going to end up hurting me somehow.”
He takes a step back. “Talk about fucking assumptions.”
“Uh . . . did you not just do that? Did you not just hurt me?”
“Not on purpose. I’m kind of fucked right now, Lottie. In case you haven’t noticed. This could ruin my entire business.”
“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you started lying to everyone about having a fiancée and baby on the way. This is no one’s fault but your own.”
“I’d do anything to secure that deal,” Huxley says, snapping back at me.
“Including blaming me for something you should’ve known I never would’ve done.”
He scrubs his hand over his face. “You hated me early on, Lottie. It was a question I had to ask.”
“No, it wasn’t.” I close the space between us and poke his chest. “You should know I’d never screw someone over, especially when it comes to business, not after I was fucked over by someone I thought I could trust. I lost everything, Huxley. Angela took away the one thing I thought I was good at, made me feel small and not worth a goddamn penny. She denigrated me. After being treated so poorly, having everything ripped out from under me, do you really think I’d turn around and do that to someone else?” When he glances down at his feet in shame, I say, “No, I wouldn’t. I might have disliked you in the beginning, but that dislike would never have enraged me to do something as low as tell Ellie the truth about us.”
I move past him and open the door.
“Lottie, stop. Where are you going?”
I type out a text to Kelsey telling her to come get me. I know she won’t ask any questions, she’ll just show up and ask questions later. I just need to get out of here. I can’t possibly be around him.
“Kelsey is coming to get me.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I lost my cool. Let’s talk through this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Huxley.” I continue to walk toward the gate.
“So, you’re leaving? Just like that?”
I turn to face him. “Do you think I can stay here?”
“It was a miscommunication.”
My eyes nearly bug out of my head. “How can you be so apathetic about this?”
“I’m not being apathetic. I’m just trying to wrap my head around this.”
“Well, wrap your head around this, Huxley. I was planning on expressing my feelings for you tonight, and instead of me being able to do that, you placed blame where it shouldn’t have been placed, tore down the trust we built between each other, and you broke my heart.”
“Wait . . . what?” he asks, his eyes going soft with regret. “Your . . . feelings? What feelings?”
“Doesn’t matter anymore,” I say as a tear falls down my cheek. I didn’t even know my eyes were leaking. I quickly wipe it away, but not before Huxley catches sight of it.
“Fuck, Lottie. I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said tonight.”
I move toward the gate, unable to listen to him over the roaring of my heart.
“Please, stay. We can work this out.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head. I feel so fragile in this moment. “I need some space.”
“Space?” He catches up to me as I walk through the gate and onto the sidewalk, where I wait for Kelsey. “What do you mean, you need space? Lottie, please, don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”
Kelsey’s car comes into view.
“Lottie.” Huxley reaches for my hand but I pull it away.
“Don’t.”
“Just fucking talk to me, please. We can work through this. We don’t need space.”
I turn around to face him as the tears gathered start to fall again. “I can barely look at you right now, Huxley. What makes you think I want to stay with you?”
Caught off guard by my tears, he rears back, and it’s all I need for my escape when Kelsey pulls up. I open the car door and start to get in, but Huxley says, “Please, Lottie. Babe, don’t leave.”
I don’t listen. I get in, shut the door, and buckle up.
Kelsey doesn’t say a thing, just drives away. We drive in silence all the way to her apartment.
Even when my phone blows up with texts from Huxley, she doesn’t say anything.
It isn’t until we’re in her apartment that she opens her mouth.