Chapter 5 Aurelia #2
I chewed the bite but nearly choked on it when I understood what he meant.
That he wanted to see me again. “Um, why?” I blurted like an idiot, not understanding why this man would want to invest more time in me when he’d already gotten laid.
He seemed like the kind of guy that didn’t do back-to-backs.
I’d expected him to be irritated when I didn’t leave his room as soon as the deed was done.
His eyebrows rose slightly as his stare hardened. “Because I want you.”
I made it back to my hotel room and showered.
The second I was dry and in a change of clothes, I knew I was a different person than I’d been yesterday. A walking zombie of grief and self-deprecation had transformed into . . . a fucking butterfly.
A slutty butterfly . . .
I sat in the only chair in the room, a small one that was distinctly unsteady, and once the high of the past twelve hours passed, a slab of guilt crashed into my shoulders.
My two-year relationship had just ended a few days ago, and I’d already jumped into bed with someone else.
And had the time of my life.
It seemed a bit small of me to do something like that, especially when I’d fucked him without protection . . . and asked him to come inside me. The guilt intensified, and a part of me felt as if I’d betrayed Enzo.
Or at least spat on the relationship we’d had.
The high I felt from Constantine immediately disappeared. I sat in silence, the old curtains open over the window to let the sunshine in. I should head outside and enjoy my time here, but now I was consumed by the darkness once more.
I was either hurt that Enzo had stopped loving me or ashamed of what I’d done.
There seemed to be no winning. It wasn’t like me to hook up with a stranger in a bar, especially bareback. Not once had I ever done anything like that in my life. They said people did strange things in their grief.
Was this one of those crazy things?
I heard a few motorbikes pass in the street below the room. Heard a car or two, sometimes conversations from the people who passed by. But then I also heard a quiet vibration, one that didn’t come from my phone on the table beside me.
I heard it again. And again.
It was coming from my room.
Then I heard a loud ringing noise—and it was definitely coming from inside my room.
I got to my feet and followed the sound, ending up on my knees on the floor. I approached the bed and lifted the bed skirt to see a bright light on the floor.
It was Enzo’s watch.
He must have enabled the Find My Device feature to locate it.
He’d probably been in such a rush when he left that he’d knocked it over and it had been kicked underneath the bed.
It was still attached to the charging pad that was plugged into the wall.
It had just fallen off the nightstand and landed somewhat behind it.
I took it off the pad and hit the button to make the obnoxious ringing stop.
He must have assumed he’d packed it in his suitcase but couldn’t find it, instead of actually checking its location. He would probably do that next and realize it was here with me.
That was when an idea struck me.
When I’d checked his phone, his messages had been clean. So was his search history. But his watch stored messages on its own. If he didn’t manually delete them from the device, they would still be there.
His watch had a passcode, unlike his phone, and I knew it after watching him enter it enough times, so I was in.
The top message was from Luna—his boss. Nothing suspicious there. I scrolled through the other message boxes to see if there were any names I didn’t recognize. It was just his parents and his friends.
A new message popped up from Luna. Where are you?
An odd message from a superior . . .
Lost my watch. I’ll leave in 5 mins.
K. She sent a bunch of heart emojis.
Okay, that was definitely weird. I scrolled back through their messages and realized there were so many. Far too many for a boss and her subordinate. When I’d checked his phone in the past, there had only been one or two messages from her, not a hoard of conversations like this.
I scrolled back to a few days ago, the day Enzo had left me at the hotel.
She blew up his phone with a ton of messages in a row.
Enzo, when are you leaving?
Don’t ignore me.
Call me.
Why won’t you fucking call me?
There were a ton of messages like that, trying to get his attention when he was with me. Without actual confirmation of what I expected, I still already knew what I would find. Knew it in my heart, soul, and bones.
Enzo finally wrote back. I can’t leave right now.
Why the fuck not? You should have done this a long time ago.
It’s complicated.
Well, Joe found out about us, so our lives just got more complicated.
Joe? Us?
She continued. I just left my husband and my two kids, and you can’t ditch your girlfriend???
Oh Jesus.
What happened?
He packed his shit and left. Said he wants a divorce. Not how I wanted things to end, but at least it’s done.
Are you okay?
I will be when you come home. I’m glad this is over. I’m glad the lie is done. I’m glad we can finally live our lives together.
I couldn’t believe this. Right underneath my nose this entire time. The last time I’d seen her was at their company Christmas party. She hugged me . . . fucking smiled at me—all the while fucking my boyfriend.
I’ll handle it and get on the next flight.
Handle it . . . handle me. I was something to be handled.
And when I sat there at dinner and asked if there was someone else, he continued to lie.
Now I understood why. It was probably because he wanted to protect Luna from getting fired.
If I exposed their relationship, she would absolutely lose her job.
Enzo too, but her position was more important because she made a lot more money than he did.
I could scroll farther back and read the details of their affair, but what was the point? I took a deep breath and suppressed the tears that wanted to fall. With sheer will, I defeated the urge. I made sure my ducts remained dry.
Because I wouldn’t cry over this.
Over my dead fucking body.
“Well, at least I don’t feel guilty anymore.” I tossed the watch aside, then stared at my phone. I considered calling Enzo and airing my grievances, but he wouldn’t care. He didn’t care that he’d hurt me. If he’d cared about me at all, none of this would have happened in the first place.
But I’d never been one to take the high road. Never been one to remain cool and collected. I always liked to get in the last word if I could snatch it. So I typed a message to him, short and simple, something to make his heart drop into his stomach.
Wish you and Luna the best.
PS: You forgot to delete the messages on your watch.
PPS: