53. Cassandra Walker
Thankfully, Theo made it through the night, but I still didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone all day to go into the firm. I’d almost called in, but she insisted she would be fine for a few hours.
“I’ll text you every hour to make sure you know I’m awake,” she’d assured me as she gingerly settled down onto the couch.
“I’m having a hard time trusting you,” I admitted. “You have a bad habit of lying to me.”
Theo winced at the truth of my words, but she nodded.
“I know. I’m sorry. But I promise, I’m not lying about this. If you don’t hear from me, you can come home and ream me out, but… You’ve been missing enough work because of me. I’m gonna feel like shit if you don’t make partner because of my bullshit…”
I hovered there for a moment, wondering if I should tell her that I didn’t give a fuck about making partner. Not if it meant she wasn’t here to celebrate with me like she’d promised she would when she married me.
And if she continued down this path, I knew all her promises would be empty ones.
She wouldn’t be here to celebrate with me or hold me, or remind me of my strength or any of that other shit she’d said.
She wouldn’t be here because she would be dead.
And that was just not something I was willing to accept.
“Don’t leave the house.” It was both an order and a threat. Happily, Theo just nodded, giving me a small smile.
“Cross my heart, hope to die.”
My eye twitched at the ‘hope to die,’ but I let it go.
I didn’t bother telling her not to drink.
I’d dumped the last bottle of wine and emptied out my liquor cabinet while she’d been sleeping.
I now had a box of booze in the trunk of my car that I planned to drop off at Fairview on my way home.
There was always a risk she might leave to get more, but I would know if she left the condo.
I’d given the doorman strict instructions to text me if she tried to leave.
“We’re going to talk more when I get home,” I warned as I slipped into my Christian Louboutins. “And you will tell me what the fuck is going on with you.”
Theo watched me get ready to leave, and she looked so sad and broken that I almost felt bad about being firm with her.
But that’s what she needed, so I stayed strong.
“I’ll try,” she whispered, and I gave her a curt nod before calling up the elevator.
‘If she tries to leave again, I’m tying her to the bed.’
I sighed, pressing the door close button firmly.
‘If she tries to leave again, I might let you.’