Tess #2
He went on, speaking to the mission of the Dysautonomia Relief Foundation and the various obstacles that stand in the way of patients who suffer from dysautonomia-related disorders.
I was glad I was standing where he couldn’t easily spot me because I was sure my expression was all starry-eyed and smitten.
He already knew I loved him. He didn’t need to know just how ridiculously giddy he made me when he got all in charge and business-like.
“One of the exciting aspects of this partnership,” he said after a while, “is how it came about. The DRF and Sebastian Industrial were brought together through the wonderful work of Conscience Connect, an organization that pairs companies like ours with foundations that most need sponsorship.”
He turned to acknowledge Kendra, who took a step up so she was standing at his side, and now I was less glad he couldn’t see me because I was sure my expression was full of spite because I was feeling full of spite, and I had no problem letting him know it.
“Kendra Montgomery is the CEO and founder of Conscience Connect, and more importantly, I’m happy to announce she’s also my fiancée.”
The room broke into chatter, though all I could hear was a loud whoosh in my ears as the air went out of my lungs.
My stomach had dropped to the floor, and the floor had surely fallen away as well.
It felt like I was sinking. Falling into a deep, deep pit.
Thank God I was leaning next to the wall, or I wouldn’t have been able to stay upright.
What. The. Fuck?
What the actual fuck?
“I didn’t know they were engaged,” Sarah said with joyous amazement.
I gritted my teeth. “Neither did I.”
Because they weren’t, right? Scott had said they weren’t. He’d said that it was all going to be over, just as soon as the deal got put together. He’d said that he wasn’t going through with it. He’d said it wouldn’t ever be announced.
So why the hell was he standing in front of a room full of reporters telling them that he was?
If it had been Kendra who had made the announcement, that would have been one thing. Or his father. But it had been Scott. It had come from his own mouth.
Which meant I was a stupid, stupid fool.
A fool to believe he loved me. A fool to believe anything he’d said.
But all of it had felt so real.
I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and believe that those feelings couldn’t be wrong. Maybe something had happened that made him change his mind. Maybe there was something I didn’t know.
Except, that was how it was with players, wasn’t it? The very definition of what they did. They made women like me believe they were special. They made women like me believe they could be first choice. They made women like me believe that men like them were worth loving.
I was decidedly close to tears.
It was my cue to leave, but just as I started to tell Sarah, Kendra started explaining her reasons for wanting to work with the DRF, which weren’t her reasons at all. They were mine.
“Dysautonomia is very close to my heart,” she said.
“I have a good friend who has suffered from POTS for several years now, and so I’ve seen firsthand what kind of impact it can have on a person’s life.
I have seen how it affects relationships.
How it affects a person’s ability to hold a job.
It’s heartbreaking. That’s why it was so important to me to find a prestigious organization like SIC to support this sponsorship.
I’m pleased to know that the DRF will be in such good hands. ”
Fuck her. And fuck him too. They deserved each other.
As if he could hear my thoughts, Scott’s gaze scanned in my direction and stopped when it landed on mine. His skin paled, but his eyes were warm and pleading. I could sense him trying to pin me in place. Could practically hear him saying don’t go. Talk to me first.
But I couldn’t stay in that room a minute longer. Not without falling completely apart.
“I’m suddenly not feeling so great,” I whispered to Sarah. Not a lie. “I’m going to slip out. Congrats on the partnership.”
I turned around, and without giving her a chance to say anything, I pushed through the crowd toward escape.
The tears were brimming by the time I reached the hall, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not while I was still on Sebastian territory.
I was immediately grateful for my ability to hold it together because two steps down the hallway, Henry Sebastian stepped out of an alternate door to the conference room.
“Ms. Turani,” he said, forcing me to acknowledge him. “I’m glad to have caught you.”
Forcing my chin up, I gave him a tight smile. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sebastian. I don’t have time to talk right now. I’m in a hurry.”
“You have something else scheduled at the same time as this announcement? That seems odd, considering the nature of the press conference. Scott gave the impression that this sponsorship was important to you.”
Oh, God. I just. I just wanted to leave. I didn’t want to engage with this asshole.
“It is,” I said, facing him as I walked around him. “And I’m ecstatic that you’ve partnered. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
I’d managed to take three steps when he called after me. “Did you really think he’d choose you?”
I froze. Like I’d been stabbed in the back, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t take another step forward. There was a ball lodged in my throat that words wouldn’t fit around, so there was no use trying to answer.
And even if I could answer, what would I have said?
Because deep down—deep, deep, deep down, in my bones, in the very smallest parts of my existence—no, I hadn’t thought he would choose me. Because I didn’t expect anything good could ever be mine. Because I had the wrong mindset. Because I didn’t believe I was worth choosing.
“Whatever he told you, Scott knows his obligations,” Henry said, twisting the knife. “He knows what he wants to accomplish. I’m sure there’s a place for you in his life. It’s just not at his side.”
It was probably the most honest thing a Sebastian had ever told me.
And the most devastating.
And if I stayed to listen to another second more, I wasn’t sure there would be enough of me left intact to move on.
With every ounce of strength in me, I pushed my feet forward. One step, then the next. Then the next. Until I was down the hall. Until I was through the lobby. Until I was out the door.
Until I was outside, sobbing in the rain, wondering how I could have ever thought that I deserved anything more than what I always got.