5. Chapter Four #2
I thought that by seeing her, I would feel a tsunami-level amount of emotions, but I didn’t. Instead, I saw her reunited with her childhood love and the only emotion I could muster up was happiness and maybe even a little relief.
He shrugs before pressing his elbow into my arm. “Maybe she’s sadistic,” he jokes.
“Watch it.”
Throwing his hands up defensively, he takes a step back. “Right, sorry. The wound is still fresh.”
“There is no wound,” I bite out, and it’s the truth.
I feel no semblance of pain at the loss of her and I have no idea what that says about me.
Maybe I’ve grown so used to the being left part of life that it no longer holds any weighted value.
“I’m about two seconds from passing out, so I’m going to head home. ”
His lips purse as he avoids my eyes, remaining silent.
“Is there something else?” I ask impatiently.
Shuffling on his feet, his mouth tugs downward as he shakes his head. “No.”
I eye the sweat starting to bead on his forehead. “Why are you being weird?”
His head pulls back as if he’s being the complete opposite of weird. “I’m not being weird. Maybe you’re the weird one.”
My brows dip. I open my mouth and then close it.
“I need to pee,” he says abruptly and walks away.
I stare at the back of his head in confusion.
After I decide I’m too tired to care, I down the rest of my scotch and discard it on a server’s tray as I make my way to the exit.
I don’t stop to speak with anyone I usually would and there’s a part of me that feels guilty for it, but I can’t deal with their egos tonight.
When I step out into the New York City streets, I breathe in the cold air, relishing in the brilliant feel of being back in the city. I consider getting a cab but decide to walk. After being cooped up in a plane, I can use some open space.
The longer I walk, I realize the suffocating feeling isn’t going anywhere.
MY APARTMENT IS DARK and quiet when I enter.
The city lights flood through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glowing hue against the shiny floors as I kick off my shoes and leave them by the door.
Being able to navigate the floor plan with my eyes closed, I don’t bother turning on any lights as I head directly for the bed that’s calling my name.
When I turn the same corner I have for the last seven years, I stub my toe on the corner of a potted plant.
I hiss at the pain. When the fuck did I put that there?
Maybe my exhaustion is playing tricks on me.
I continue my route, this time slower. In the hall, I step on something soft.
I immediately decipher it as a piece of clothing since it tries to take my footing out from under me.
“What the hell. . .” I crouch to scoop up the culprit.
Squinting, I realize that I’m dangling a black lace bra between my fingers. This is why Carter was acting strange. He’s been bringing a girl—probably multiple—here. I’ll have to ask if he made sure to at least wash the sheets this time.
Carter’s not much younger than me, but sometimes he feels more like a younger brother than a friend.
We grew up in different worlds, but somehow, he became a friend I knew I’d have for life.
There’s always been something genuine about Carter and maybe it’s why I was drawn to him.
If there’s anything I’ve learned throughout my wretched life, it’s that if you ever find good people, you hold on to them.
He might be a pain in my ass from time to time, but to me, he’ll always be family. I don’t leave the people I love behind. If anything, I tie a lasso around their waists and drag their asses with me.
Maybe it’s because I’ve experienced it that makes me hold on to things so passionately, but I can’t seem to look at it any other way.
It’s also the reason my anger with Abigail has nearly depleted itself.
While I don’t fully understand her reason for not telling me who Lily’s birth parents were, I know she had her reasons.
I respect them because I respect her and Willow Vensling.
Hell, I even respect Sadie for the decision she made.
She’s a stranger to me, but she changed my sister’s world.
If I ever met her, I’d thank her and tell her what she did was right.
This entire time, when Lily called Willow her Aunt Lo, I thought it was something she had picked up.
This whole time, it was the truth. Her birth father was Benjamin Vensling.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all and I know that I should have a chat with Abby.
I know it’s not fair for me to keep ignoring her calls and I can’t keep putting it off for much longer.
She’s the closest thing to family I’ve got.
Brushing away my flash of guilt, I leave the bra where I found it.
I also make a note to text Carter that he’s getting less stealthy, and he needs to up his game.
When I enter my bedroom, I strip from my suit as I make a beeline for one of my closets. I toss everything into the hamper and swap my slacks for gray sweatpants .
The moment I belly flop on my bed, I pass the fuck out.