Harlowe #3
Cold clarity cracks over my head and spreads like an icy flood down my spine, sending tingles through my veins and rushing along my skin.
He is trying to go back to that? He thinks he can reach back to what he initially said and that will be it.
I’ll have to admit he’s right, I did agree.
I knew the score when I joined him and I’ll have to live with it when I leave.
But he’s dead wrong, because we burned those bridges together, cans of gasoline and torches in hand, and we can't go back that way no matter how much he thinks he can.
Anger simmers in my veins and it feels a hell of a lot better than the hurt, the betrayal and fucking heartbreak that wants to drown me in utter devastation, so I cling to it.
“You psycho motherfucker,” I seethe. “What was this? Was it all a lie? You made me yours, Zander.” My voice cracks on the admission.
I close my eyes to avoid him seeing just how painful this is for me, how much it hurts that he could be pulling back now, that he could be saying he doesn’t want me after all.
I’m not important. I’m nothing more than the pretty face he chose to fuck for two weeks.
Turns out that’s all I’m good for, after all, being pretty.
He’s extinguishing those lights, taking back the fire and flame he gave me to light the black places in my soul, and returning me to darkness.
I open my eyes and feel tears slip down my cheeks.
“You didn't just fuck me. You claimed a piece of my soul and you gave yourself to me.” I place my hand on my chest and can nearly feel the gaping wound where my heart should be, where the piece of him should be that he has stolen back. “That’s not casual. That’s not anything like no attachments.
You tied strings to us that wrapped us together in promises of forever.
You made love to me and it was slow and sweet.
You came inside of me and said you were ruined, that you wanted this, you wanted me, forever.
You gave into this and I don’t care what you are saying now, I know you felt it, too.
You can’t deny this, Zander. I won’t let you.
You are mine. You want forever with me.”
My words are angry, heartfelt, full of emotion and everything he has made me feel since I realized I was falling for him and he was right there with me.
Tears are streaming down my cheeks now and I don't stop them. If he wants to see what his rules and casual, no attachments will do to me, I’ll let him.
Zander’s storm cloud eyes brighten with what looks like pain and misery, briefly showing me the swirling eddies of ash and smoke of those very rules he had burned to the ground for me before he slams down a shutter of cold indifference over them and a flat gray wasteland is all that stares back at me.
He fully turns toward me, his laptop and work forgotten, at least momentarily, and I secretly hope I have managed to pull him back to me, that he will admit he was wrong and he does want forever after all, that we can make this work.
My hope is dashed as soon as he begins to speak and his flat eyes match his flat, hard tone.
“Listen to me carefully, Lowe, because I will only say this once. You got a very different version of me on this trip. A version that doesn’t exist in real life.
That man can't leave this jet, so forget about him. Forget anything he told you and don’t expect me to be him.
I’m not capable of being what you’re looking for now, outside of that very specific instance in that very specific place.
I can’t be what you need or want and you deserve better, so forget about me.
And know I’ll do my fucking best to forget about you. Forever is a lie.”
A quiet sob wrenches free from the tight hold I’m using to keep myself together.
But my pride keeps me from utterly losing my shit in front of him.
So, I use whatever grace I can muster, rise from the seat beside him, and head to the bathroom.
In privacy, I give into the silent, gut-wrenching sobs that wrack my whole body, sending tears trailing down my cheeks, and snot coating my face.
It takes me a long time before I’m able to pull myself together, and longer to get my puffy eyes and red face under control.
When I leave the bathroom, I find a seat with my back to Zander, put earbuds in, and try my fucking best to forget that he is behind me, forgetting all about me before I’m even gone.
When we land in LA, I’m back in a role. This one the beautiful, aloof model who enjoyed a fabulous tropical vacation with a billionaire and expects nothing from him now that it’s done.
It may be harder to play than I would have imagined going into the trip, but I somehow manage.
I follow Zander off the jet, and he hands me into the waiting car without so much as a kiss on my cheek before he heads back onto the jet so he can return to Atlanta.
He doesn’t even turn to look at me once.
Just like that, the trip is over, and Zander Olsen has left my life forever.