43. Cassidy #3
“He might just be busy,” I say, although nobody has suggested otherwise.
Harlan’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing he can do to reassure me.
I ring again. This time, it rings three times before the call is declined.
Something sharp presses beneath my ribs.
“He’s declining me,” I whisper.
Isaac’s fingers tighten around mine.
“Try texting him,” Isaac suggests softly. “Maybe he’s just not able to talk right now.”
“Maybe.” I bite my lip, wondering why I’m willing to make excuses for him.
I open our messages, a flutter racing through my stomach. The room is saturated with my scent, but not in a good way. I’m perfuming panic and betrayal.
Horror and sadness.
Cassidy
Are you there, Frankie?
The words look ridiculous on the screen. I sound desperate. I add another message before I can stop myself.
Cassidy
I know what happened. Please call me. I just want to understand.
The little status beneath the message doesn’t change. No typing bubble appears.
Nothing.
I swallow, my throat aching. Isaac’s hold on my hand is the only thing keeping me warm right now. There’s an uncomfortable chill in my bones, despite the warmth of the room. The silence stretches, and I can feel my mates watching me, their scents swirling with concern and protective anger.
Something cold settles in my stomach.
“Cassie,” Isaac starts, but he’s interrupted by my phone suddenly vibrating.
Hope hits me so hard I nearly drop it. I unlock my phone quickly.
Frankie
I never meant to hurt you. Sorry.
I read it again and again.
He never meant to hurt me?
He’s sorry? Sorry for what?
For stealing from me? For letting me believe I’d ruined my campaign?
For listening while I blamed myself? For using me?
For choosing his career over mine?
“What does that mean?” I ask, barely recognising my voice.
None of my mates answer because there’s nothing they can say to reassure me.
I press the call button again.
The call ends immediately this time. No ringing, just silence. I frown and try once more.
The same thing happens again.
A hollow feeling opens in my chest.
“He’s blocked me.”
The words fall out of my mouth as I stare at the screen, at the little notification telling me the call can’t be connected, and something inside me cracks cleanly down the middle.
He blocked me.
He nearly ruined my life, nearly destroyed the career I’ve worked so hard for… and he’s blocked me.
Isaac closes his eyes. Evander mutters something vicious beneath his breath, but Silas silences him with a look.
“He blocked me,” I repeat.
The numbness cracks. It splinters slowly, starting in my throat and spreading through my chest until every breath hurts.
I didn’t shout at him. I didn’t accuse him.
I just… wanted to talk to him. And he couldn’t even do that.
I stare at my phone, at the screen that won’t connect, and something hot and sharp rises behind my eyes. My vision blurs, and I blink rapidly, trying to hold it together.
Harlan moves before I can process it. His hand covers mine, warm and steady, and he gently takes the phone from my shaking fingers. He doesn’t put it down.
He just holds it, holding my hand wrapped around it, and I let him.
“Give it to me,” he says, not unkindly.
I release it. My hand feels empty without it.
Harlan sets the phone down on the floor next to him. A sob catches in my throat, and I try to swallow it down.
I don’t want to cry over him.
I don’t want to give him anything else.
But another sob follows, tearing free before I can stop it, and all four of my mates reach for me almost instinctively.
“I thought he was my friend,” I whisper.
“You did nothing wrong,” Isaac says softly. “This is not a reflection on you, Cass.”
I shake my head, staring at my hands, at how gently Isaac and Harlan are holding them.
“I told him everything. I told him how scared I was. I told him I thought I’d ruined it all, and he—”
My voice breaks completely.
“He knew.”
Isaac is beside me. Harlan is still crouched in front of me. Silas’s hand settles firmly between my shoulder blades, and Evander presses close enough that his warmth surrounds my other side.
Nobody tells me to get over it, to stop being so dramatic. They’re not mad at me or angry.
They’re just… here for me, surrounding me in familiar scents until I can breathe again.
I don’t know how long we stay like that.
My tears slow eventually, leaving my face raw and my eyes swollen. The silence around me isn’t empty. It’s full of their scents, their warmth, their steady presence. Nobody rushes me. Nobody tells me it’s time to move on.
The doorbell rings, cutting through the silence.
I flinch. My mates stiffen around me, Evander growls low in his throat before he can stop himself.
“Anyone expecting someone?” Silas asks, and we all respond in the negative. “I’ll get it.”
He leaves the living room, his footsteps fading down the hallway as the bell rings again, louder this time.
I giggle, wiping my nose on the sleeve of my blouse.
Disgusting, I know.
“What’s so funny?” Isaac asks as Evander grins at me.
“Just that Silas was already annoyed before answering the door,” I say with a small smile. “He’s going to be even more annoyed at their impatience.”
Evander’s hand tightens against my leg. “Well, if it’s Frankie, I’m happy for him to murder him. I’ll help hide the body.”
“It won’t be Frankie,” Harlan says darkly. “And Silas won’t murder anyone.”
Harlan reaches into his pocket and offers me a clean handkerchief.
I stare at it in surprise. “Do you just carry those?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His expression remains completely serious. “Because you cry a lot.”
A weak laugh escapes me before I can stop it, and their faces soften.
“Thank you,” I whisper, taking it and wiping my face dry. I blow my nose, not dainty and cute but like a trumpet.
Silas returns a moment later carrying an enormous box. For half a second, I have absolutely no idea what it is.
Then I see the bakery logo printed across the lid, and I remember.
Oh, fuck.
I burst into giggles as Silas places the box on the table.
“What the fuck is this?” Evander demands, leaning forward. “Oh. Dessert. Okay, which one of you do I need to devote my life to for ordering this?”
I raise my hand, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Did you really have to order enough to feed the entire office?” Silas asks wryly. “It weighs a tonne.”
“What happened to not expecting anyone, little luxury?” Harlan asks, raising a brow.
Heat creeps slowly across my cheeks. “I forgot about it.”