31. Taylor
Taylor
I’m halfway through comparing two apartments in Brooklyn when the intercom buzzes. The sharp sound slices through the silence of my living room, making me jerk so hard I nearly drop my phone. Every muscle in my body locks.
No.
My gaze drifts toward the wall-mounted security monitor. They found me. Shit.
The thought settles in my system, tightening my chest. They’ve been calling, texting, and leaving voicemails, all of which I’ve ignored. I should’ve known it was only a matter of time before they lost their patience—especially Roman.
But I don’t want to see them. I’m still reeling from what Mom told me.
The betrayal still sits inside me like broken glass.
I keep wondering what was real and which moments happened because there was a paycheck waiting at the end.
A conversation might give me the answers I need, but I’m not ready for one.
Because those answers might hurt far worse than what I’m feeling now.
The intercom buzzes again. I force myself to stand and walk to the monitor, and my pulse pounds against my ribs as I tap the screen. The image flickers to life. Relief rushes through me so suddenly that my knees almost give out.
Celeste.
Her bright red hair is unmistakable, even through the grainy security camera.
I let out a pent-up breath. Besides that one phone call after everything exploded online, I haven’t spoken to her.
Truthfully, I haven’t spoken to anyone, not unless they were handing me takeout through my front door.
I haven’t gone anywhere. I haven’t even opened social media, and I avoid the news like the plague.
It’s better to live in ignorant bliss than witness strangers debating my life as if it’s entertainment.
So, for the last two weeks, I’ve hidden inside this apartment, pretending the outside world doesn’t exist. It’s lonely, though; more than I’d cared to admit.
I press the button. “Come on up.”
A minute later, there’s a knock on the door.
I open it to meet Celeste’s tired smile.
She has always looked effortlessly put together, but not today.
Her hair is loosely tied back, wisps escaping everywhere.
Beneath her eyes are faint shadows, and she appears to have thrown on her clothes without a second thought.
Before I can utter a word, she wraps her arms around me. “I’m so sorry.”
I hug her back without hesitation. She clings to me for a second before pulling away. “I should’ve been more careful bringing Malik here.”
She sighs heavily. “If only I could go back in time.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t. Everyone has seen you having sex, and it’s because of me.”
With an assuring smile, I clasp her cheeks. “Look at me.”
Her gaze flickers upward.
“It’s okay. I mean it. Stop beating yourself up, understand?”
She searches my face as if trying to determine whether I’m lying. I’m not. If anything, I’m relieved. The truth is finally out. Mom knows. I’m done pretending to be someone I’m not. What happened was horrible, but I don’t miss carrying that secret. The weight will never burden me again.
Satisfied, Celeste nods and gives me a soft smile. I step aside, gesturing for her to enter. She walks into the apartment and raises her brows at the takeout boxes stacked on the center table. “You’ve really been hiding.”
“I wasn’t exactly subtle.”
She drops onto the couch and folds one leg beneath her. “I’ve been lying low, too. Well, kind of.”
“Where?”
“At Malik’s,” she replies. “His parents didn’t hesitate to take me in. It’s been refreshing living with people who don’t care about net worth and designer labels, but I miss my parents. I hope they’ll come around, eventually.”
She shrugs, though I can tell she’s trying very hard to sound optimistic. “They’re still my family.”
I nod, thinking of my mother. “You’re right.”
“In the meantime, I started my new job.”
“At the investment firm?” I ask, taking the seat beside her.
She gives me a genuine smile. “Yep. My first day was last Monday.”
“How’s it going?”
“So far, so good. They don’t know my life is in complete disarray, so that’s nice.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Yeah, me too. I’ll figure everything else out as I go. But enough about me.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand, her expression softening. “How are you?”
I stare down at where our hands join. How am I? Mentally exhausted. Heartbroken. Relieved, yet angry. Free, yet still feeling lost as hell. “I’m... existing,” is what comes out.
Celeste sighs.
“It’s best to stay indoors until the election is over,” I go on. “Mom’s legal team managed to get the website shut down, but the video has already circulated beyond their control. They still haven’t figured out who owned the site, either.”
“Do you still think that Wilson guy is behind it?”
”I know he’s behind it. Mom is trying to find a connection, but I haven’t gotten any good news yet.”
At least, not since her last text message two days ago. Then again, she has probably given up on contacting me since I’ve constantly left her messages on read. I’m not ready to talk to her, either. I still can’t believe she wanted me to throw Roman under the bus.
“So he just might get away with it,” Celeste says, incensed. “Him and all the other assholes involved.”
I shrug. “Maybe not.” Karma might not have caught up with Wilson as I’d want it to, but he still got a decent serving. “He got mugged a few nights ago.”
Celeste’s eyebrows lift. “What?”
“Yep. Someone beat him pretty badly. He spent a couple of days in the hospital.”
“I... wow.”
“Mom said they hadn’t found any suspects. I hope they never will.”
“It sounds like justice to me,” Celeste says. I make a face. She squeezes my hand again. “I know that won’t change what happened to you, but look on the bright side. This scandal will soon fade into obscurity. You’re going to move on from this.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I know I’m right.” She adjusts herself, turning to face me. “We’re going to be okay, Taylor. I’ve got a new job, and you don’t need to hide who you are anymore. Even your mom is doing okay.”
Mom is doing better than okay, actually. She lost a few donors, but the ones that make a huge financial difference still support her.
Which is strange.
I’d expected most of them to desert her. Alan Riddleston, especially. My sexuality goes against everything he publicly claims to believe. So, why would he stay?
The answer bothers me more than I care to admit. Powerful people rarely do anything without expecting something in return. Whatever he’s getting, whatever deal he’s making with Mom, it isn’t for free.
“Hey.” Celeste shakes my shoulder. “Come on, snap out of it. You know how much I hate when you’re depressed.”
“I’ll be fine,” I reply. “At least once I book a one-way ticket out of here.”
She gasps. “No.”
“Yes.” I reach for my phone, handing it to her.
Her eyes widen as she scrolls through the images of the apartment I like the most. “This is gorgeous, but,” she stares up at me with alarm. “New York? That’s almost three thousand miles away.”
“I know—which is exactly why I’m moving there,” I reply, taking the phone from her. “I need a fresh start, CC. Someplace where no one knows who I am. A city of millions would be the perfect place to start over.”
Celeste smiles sadly. “I wish the perfect place were here in San Francisco, but I understand. Do whatever you need to be happy.”
I force a return smile.
“And I’m going to miss you.” She wraps her arm around my middle.
“Well, you could always visit,” I tell her. And then I remember saying those same words to Jude two weeks ago. Two weeks. Hell. It feels like a lifetime since I last saw them. The longing in my gut coincides with the betrayal I still feel.
“You already know I’m going to take you up on that offer.” Celeste grins. “And I might take Malik with me.”
I groan and roll my eyes. “Then I’ll definitely need to install a soundproof door.”
Celeste giggles. “As if we’ll be the only ones getting it on. I’m sure you’ll have no problems finding a boyfriend once you settle in.”
Her words suck the air out of the room. My chest tightens. I rub the area, taking a deep inhale.
“Taylor?”
“I’m okay.”
But I’m not. The thought of meeting someone new sends an overwhelming wave of intense dread crashing down on me.
I don’t understand. This is what I’ve always wanted, isn’t it?
To have dinner with another man without looking over my shoulder, to hold his hand in public, to be loved openly and genuinely for the rest of my life.
So why does it feel as if I can’t breathe?
“Baby steps,” Celeste whispers. I glance at her, seeing that discerning look. “You might not want to tell me everything that happened in Hallow Creek, but I know you, Taylor. You wouldn’t have slept with them unless you felt something. And it wouldn’t be the first time you got attached, either.”
I sigh. As always, she’s right as rain.
“Have you heard from them?” she asks.
“They tried contacting me, but I haven’t responded.”
“Do you think you ever will?”
“No.”
“Never?”
I swallow. “I can’t. CC, I don’t know what was real anymore. And I’m not sure if I could ever trust them again.”
“Oh, babe.” Celeste rubs my shoulder.
“You’re right. I grew attached to them, but every time I think of going back, all I hear is my mother’s voice.”
‘He doesn’t care about you. All Roman wanted was my money.’
I straighten my shoulders, ignoring the lead-like feeling in my chest. Baby steps. I look toward the city skyline beyond my window. “I’m going to move on, CC.”
For the first time, I’m starting to believe it.