Thirty-Three
Annalise
"Stop worrying so much. You look gorgeous," Astrid told me.
"Thank you. I just..." I glanced at my hair in the mirror, back to my natural deep brunette color, the locks longer now, but not yet reaching my normal length. "It's weird to go out and intermingle with people again. And I don't know who I am anymore."
"What do you mean? You don't know who you are?"
"Well, with Venus, I was Cordelia. With Max and Veronica, I was Cordelia. But with other people that'll be there tonight, I've always been Annalise Stratton. And as Cordelia, I felt more myself than I've ever felt as Annalise. So who the fuck am I now?"
Watching my always kind sister struggle for something positive to say was usually something that I found highly entertaining. But not tonight. Not with so much on the line. Not when I hadn't been out of the house in weeks unless absolutely necessary.
That was the beauty of working from home. I could literally wear my pajamas all day, every day, and order anything I could ever possibly need or want to be delivered right to my doorman.
Who needed sunshine and fresh air anyway? They were totally overrated. As was human interaction. Because human interaction just led to heartbreak. I was completely happy to be by myself day after day after day for weeks on end. Yes, I was. Absolutely, I was. Yep, one-hundred percent.
"You're whoever you want to be. That's who you are," Astrid finally said. "Names don't matter. This is a chance for you to forge a new path forward and create whatever life you want."
"And what if that life is just being in my apartment all day long and eating junk food?"
"That's okay too. For a short time," she amended. "It's fine to wallow for a bit. But then, you've got to get back on that horse and ride it. Ride it hard."
Was my sister being dirty?
I stared at her and she burst out laughing. "Sorry. I couldn't help it. All I can think about is the winter ball coming up."
"Oh, God. You're not still going to go through with that, are you?" I clamped a hand over my mouth at the look on her face. Shit. I'd meant to keep my negativity and bad attitude to myself. Astrid most definitely didn't deserve it.
"Yes, I am," she huffed defiantly.
"I'm sorry. I'm just a total bitch right now. You should absolutely still go, and I one-hundred percent support you in your endeavor to get back on the horse and ride it hard." Maybe I could joke to cover up my asshole comment.
She smiled at me. "It's okay. I know you're hurting, and hurt people hurt people."
I inhaled a deep breath and blew it out. She was right, and I hated it. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt those brave enough to still be around me. Why did we always lash out at the people closest to us, the ones we loved the most?
"I really am sorry." I turned to look at her instead of her reflection in the mirror. "And you know what? Tonight, I'm going to really make an effort to get myself out of this funk and hopefully find a way forward as my new self."
She patted me on the arm. "Good. That's a start."
After checking my outfit over one last time, admiring the beautiful black gown Astrid had created just for me, I found myself in a car heading for this big charity event that Venus had invited me to.
I'd asked her if Max was going and she said she wasn't sure. She'd extended invitations to both Veronica and Max, but she hadn't had time to check for their responses, having just returned to the U.S. a day ago.
I had to be honest. I didn't know whether or not to believe her. But I couldn't question her further, so I bit my tongue and tried to mentally prepare for the worst. And that was running into them, running into him .
Then again, he hadn't mentioned a thing in his daily notes, and the Max I knew didn't seem like the type to keep secrets or keep things to himself. That was one of the things I liked—or had liked—about him. He seemed like an open book, straightforward and honest, no games or messing around.
Except for the minor deception of hiding his actual fucking name.
Which I'd done too. Fuck .
I sighed, tugging at the full skirt of my dress, trying to cover the almost obscene amount of thigh the slit showed. If I shifted too much, yeah, people might get an eyeful.
At least, my sister had been able to miraculously make the corset comfortable, my boobs looking pretty damn amazing, if I did say so myself. Of course, nothing could rival Venus' cleavage. But I was doing the best I could for someone who'd lived in leggings for weeks and had only just now shaved for the first time since being shown the door at Insight Ink.
The car pulled up to the curb, my stomach knotting the way it always did right before big events like this. It was odd going in alone too, someone from my family usually joining me, but none of them were here tonight. I had only myself to rely on.
As the driver opened my door, I gave the slit in my dress one final adjustment, trying to avoid flashing anyone. I stepped out into the warm Manhattan night and headed toward the small crowd at the entrance, laughter and conversation echoing between the buildings.
I took a steadying breath in a useless attempt to prepare myself before moving forward into the glow of the light spilling out from the large doors. Once inside, music and voices merged together, filling the grand foyer with a buzzing energy that only served to multiply my nerves.
Straightening my shoulders, I reminded myself that this was for Venus. She'd asked me to be here, and there was no way in hell I'd say no. Gliding past a few familiar faces who gave me a friendly nod, I told myself I'd made it this far. Now all I had to do was survive the rest of the night.
Which was easier said than done.
What I needed was a gala buddy, someone to share a drink with while engaging in mindless chitchat. Surely I could find at least one person here that I knew and could tolerate.
Finding my way to one side of the room so I could survey my surroundings, I took in the scene—fresh flowers and candles on every available surface, cascading chandeliers giving everything a soft glow.
The charity was for animals of course, Venus' biggest passion, but I couldn't tell you what organization was putting this on or who benefited. Considering Venus was my one and only client at the moment, I probably should have put more effort into tonight.
But I hadn't, which was highly unusual for me.
The truth was... I was fucking depressed and down, farther down than I'd ever been in my entire life. And not only about being fired, but also because I was so damn lonely.
Not the loneliness I'd had before him. That had been different, just a vague sense on occasion that I was missing something, a person to share all my thoughts and worries with at the end of the day, someone to cuddle and whisper with in the night.
This loneliness was far more specific. It was a constant ache in my chest. For a certain flash of a smile. For a twinkle of lightness in a pair of dark eyes. For a deep, loud laugh that reverberated through me.
Damn it. I was so sick of my life and the shitshow it'd become these last few weeks. I'd been a shadow of myself, not exactly dead, but certainly not living.
While working on Venus' book was great and all, if I was being honest with myself, which was remarkably difficult, the only real thing I'd looked forward to was getting Max's daily notes. They'd become a beacon of light in my darkness.
I kept them in my nightstand drawer, pulling them out in the middle of the night when restless insomnia hit me, which was unhealthily often. I read them, studying the bold, confident strokes of Max's pen, wishing I knew something about handwriting analysis and the meaning behind his sharp angles and flowing lines.
Quite a few times, I'd woken in the morning, still clutching a note to my chest, as if I'd sought to relieve the endless dull pain in my heart.
A server drifted by with a tray of champagne, and I gratefully took a glass, coming back to the present. Scattered around the room, clusters of people chatted away, some beginning to take their seats. I let my gaze wander, remembering my mission to find a friendly face.
Of course, I looked at every single tall male in the room, but none were him . And no sign of Veronica either.
Venus would make a late arrival obviously, and even once she made her grand entrance, she'd hardly hang out with me for any significant amount of time. Too many people would be clamoring for her attention and understandably so.
Seated across the room at a table, I spotted an old friend that I hadn't seen in ages, so I headed that way, although my heart really wasn't in it. But it was better than literally being a wallflower.
Leona greeted me warmly, giving me a hug and asking me to sit down beside her. After catching up for a bit and dancing around some difficult questions, I was utterly exhausted. Trying to keep up the illusion that my life was perfect and everything was just fine was unbearable.
When the emcee's voice boomed over the speakers, relief flashed through me. Hopefully there would be a lot of talking tonight.
He welcomed everyone, promising an unforgettable evening, then went over the schedule, peppering in jokes and amusing stories. Thank goodness for talkative people. Sometimes, they really saved the day.
"Whew, he's chatty," Leona said to me under her breath.
I nodded in agreement. Chatty and loquacious.
Loquacious. One of my favorite words. I wondered if Max knew what it meant.
Servers appeared and started bringing out the food, as well as topping up drinks. I wasn't very hungry, nerves still filling my stomach unfortunately, so I ended up only eating a few bites. But the wine and champagne were going down great.
My mind wandered back to the gala I'd gone to with Max, the one where he'd made me say the word meowgarita repeatedly. I smiled, but my smile quickly turned to melancholy when I remembered the way we'd danced later in the night, how close he'd held me, how strong and safe and warm he'd felt.
Longing swept through me, a longing so powerful my chest squeezed. I couldn't be here anymore. I needed... I needed something.
Air. Fresh air.
I needed to shake off my frozen expression, stop pretending like I cared about whatever the emcee was saying, and get the hell out of here.
Shoving my chair back, I drew Leona's attention, her brows raising as she looked at me.
"Sorry. I don't feel well," I said. "I need some air."
"Do you need my help?"
"No, no, no," I insisted. "I'll be fine. But thank you. And good seeing you again."
Unable to wait for her reply, I took off, ignoring any looks that came my way. Thankfully, most people were too preoccupied with themselves to even notice me.
I wove my way between the tables, dodging the waitstaff with their full trays, catching snatches of conversation around me, the emcee's voice not quite loud enough to drown everyone out.
Spying a pair of ornate double doors at the far end of the room, I made my way toward them like they were a beckoning lighthouse amidst my storm. Finally reaching them, I pushed one open and slipped through, the door closing behind me and muffling the noise of the party.
Outside, I found myself on a wide stone balcony overlooking the Manhattan skyline, the night air brushing my face like a balm. Holding on to the cool railing, I gulped down lungfuls of oxygen, my chest heaving as if I'd just surfaced from being underwater. And maybe I had been underwater, ever since that day when Max and I had broken things off.
What a fucking disaster I'd made of everything. Me and my stupid grandiose idea of making a name for myself. How dumb was that plan? The name wasn't even mine, so what good had that even done me?
And Max. My God, the way I missed him in my life. That was by far the worst part. And even more tragic, it felt like it was too late to fix it.
Staring at the city lights stretched out before me, a Max montage—fucking alliteration—played out in my mind, all of our greatest moments, and not so great moments, weaving together into an endless loop that made me want to weep.
Was it too late?
The man had been the definition of persistence, never failing a single day to send me a note, always writing the sweetest things, not showing any signs of giving up on me.
But he'd fired me .
But maybe he'd been right to fire me.
Being Cordelia had been a dead end with no good way out. He'd pushed me, sooner than I wanted to, but if he hadn't, I knew damn well I'd still be there, doing the same fucking thing... pretending to be someone I wasn't, living a lie every single day, falling deeper and deeper into a hole of my own doing.
Max had actually saved me .
The realization hit me like a thunderclap, loud and startling, rattling me to my core. Shock then urgency spread like wildfire through my veins. I had to find him, to tell him, to apologize to him face-to-face.
There was no time to waste. What if in the space of this party, he'd given up on me?
Whirling around, I rushed toward the doors I'd just come through, only to have one pop open in front of me. I stopped in my tracks, my jaw dropping at the sight before me.
Max fucking Sterling. In the flesh. Looking handsome as hell. Stealing the breath from my lungs.
The mustache was gone, as were the unflattering glasses and bad haircut. No rumpled, ill-fitting clothes either.
He stepped out into the moonlight—tall, so damn tall, and devastatingly gorgeous—wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo that hugged his broad shoulders and big body like a glove. His dark hair was slightly tousled, those intense, familiar eyes locking on mine with a magnetic pull, a faint smile playing about his lips.
To be honest, I didn't care in the slightest what he looked like on the outside. I knew him on the inside , more than I even knew myself. And I... I loved who he was, how he cared for those around him, how he had a positive outlook that spread to anyone in his vicinity, how he'd never given up on me despite how unlovable I could be.
In that instant, the world shrunk to just two people, the two of us.
Us .
If he'd agree.
There was only one way to find out. And my heart drummed a frantic beat as I stepped forward, intent on my mission.