"What the hell am I supposed to do? You're angry beyond belief, and I don't know what to do about it."
"Don't lie anymore, Sarah. That's what you do about it."
"Fine! Then what do you want to know?" I asked.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me the two of you started seeing one another again? You told me shit didn't work out and then what? Were those phone calls all throughout that dinner him?"
"Yes," I said.
"So, he just kept fucking pestering you like a petulant toddler?"
"A petulant toddler?" I asked, grinning.
"Sarah, not only did you lie about seeing him, you lied about meeting him. Wednesday was a fucking game for you both. I have every reason to be angry over that. At both of you."
"Yes. Yes you do," I said. "But I technically didn't lie about the whole ‘we stopped seeing each other' thing. It just never came back up in conversation that we were seeing one another again."
"Are you actually gonna split hairs on this thing? You're at fault. You both are. End of story."
"Well if you didn't try to control who I dated, then maybe I would've told you sooner," I said.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" she asked.
"It was your fucking idea for me to date Ryan! He was a blind date you set me up on because you thought we would be so perfect together," I said.
"It's not my fault he was sucking face with your co-host or whatever," she said.
"And the blind date before that, what was his name? Eric? Yeah, the guy I dated for, like, three weeks before I saw him out with that fun little busty blonde in the middle of downtown Dallas. Thank fuck I hadn't gone public with that one yet."
"All I did was set you up on those dates. They seemed like decent enough men-"
"Every time we talk about my dating life, you make it sound like I've picked these guys. And sure, I picked the one in high school, and he was a real fucking piece of shit work. I got it. But you've set me up on five blind dates. One of them came out of the closet shortly after, two still lived with their parents, and the other two I dated fucking cheated on me."
"Well, maybe there isn't something wrong with my choices. Maybe there's just something wrong with you!"
I sat there for a long while simply staring at my best friend. I allowed the words to soak into my head as I watched her face drop. It was like I'd been sucked into a vacuum. All I could hear was the whirring of her air conditioning kick on as her lips moved. There were no words. No sounds. Just me, my thoughts, and the words that had flown from her mouth.
Maybe there's just something wrong with you.
"Sarah, I didn't mean that," she said.
I got up from the couch. I felt my face paling with every step I took toward the door. I felt the walls closing in as tears rose to my eyes, and all I wanted to do was get back to the safety of my apartment.
"Sarah, please. Please don't leave," she said.
I felt her grab my hand, and I yanked it out with a fury. I whipped around, my watery gaze connecting with hers as tears promptly flowed down her cheeks. I knew she had a right to be angry with me. Angry at both of us. I knew she had a right to dodge our phone calls, so she could have time to process everything. I knew she needed space to breathe and digest everything that was going on around her.
But she sure as hell didn't have the right to say that.
"I'm sorry. Sarah, don't go. Sarah please!"
I walked out the door and found my way to my car. I don't know how I got home, I don't know how in the world I fucking operated my car, but I didn't come out of my shocked reverie until I was pushing my apartment door open into the only space in my life I felt was really, truly mine.
Then, I dropped to my knees and sobbed.
Chapter 28
Mason
All day and all night I had my eyes glued to the media. They kept replaying my press conference over and over again like it was some grand piece of art. Emma still wasn't taking my calls, but now neither was Sarah. She sent me a text message saying she went to speak with Emma, but that was it.
At least she hadn't written me out altogether.
The media was completely divided. Some were happy for me and saying we had a real relationship going on, which was false. I rolled my eyes and groaned, thinking about how easy it was to trick people into thinking two individuals were going hot and heavy or some bullshit. Sarah and I weren't in a relationship. Not even close. I just wanted them to stop fucking calling her some bullshit word like hypocrite. She wasn't a hypocrite. She was an attractive, successful, independent, rich, virile woman.
What the fuck was wrong with that?
They kept chirping on about how cute we looked and how happy she seemed. They praised me for bringing her out of her shell ever since the debacle with her ex. They kept fucking flashing pictures of her ex sucking face with her co-host, and all I could do was groan and hope to fuck Sarah wasn't watching the news. She'd be so pissed they were dredging up all this stuff while trying to praise a relationship she wasn't in.
The other half of the media was correct that we weren't in a real relationship. But they were calling me a pig for it. A pig! Why the fuck am I the pig because I want to spoil and bang the hottest woman in Dallas? It's not like she didn't agree to it. It's not like she wasn't having fun. They were saying things like ‘I'm just taking her along for a ride' and ‘she'll end up like my other conquests.' What was that supposed to mean, ‘my other conquests'? My other hookups went on to find the men of their dreams. All the women I dated once or twice would hook up with men who married their asses after me.
I fucking bolstered them into their long-term relationships. I was a professional stepping stone who set the bar for those women in their lives. After me, they knew what they deserved and how they should be treated, and it formed foundations that found them what they really wanted.
Forever love and all that shit.
Report after report after report came coming in. Some media outlets were dissecting my relationships while others were dissecting hers. It was disgusting if you asked me, and I was worried about Sarah. Sure, we weren't in a real relationship or whatever. But I knew this was hurting her and her best friend.
My sister.
I needed to try and call Emma again now that we'd all had a chance to sleep on things.
But even when I cut off the television, Tony kept texting me headlines for all sorts of bullshit and asking me if I'd talked with Sarah. He wouldn't fucking leave me alone, and it was like he knew I'd cut off my only source of news. There were a couple of press mongers still hanging around my house, but they left once they realized I wasn't coming out anytime soon. I shut the blinds and raked my hand through my hair, feeling stressed all the way to my bones.
I needed to get away, and I wanted her to come with me.
I picked up my phone and dialed Sarah's number immediately. The phone rang and rang, and I almost hung up and called right back. But just before her answering machine took over, I heard a click on the other end of the line.
A click, and then a sniffle.
Shit. Sarah wasn't doing well, and that tugged at something deep within my chest.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Do you want to get away with me?"
"What?" she asked.
"No questions asked. Just one day of getting away from all this bullshit and all the press and all the media and just existing? Just one day?"
There was silence, and I was hanging onto her every breath. I could hear her thinking, if there was ever such a thing. My hands were shaking and everything inside of me screamed for her to say yes. I wanted her to come away with me desperately. I wanted to wipe the tears from her eyes. I wanted to put a smile on her face and clear her mind if only for a little while.
I wanted to lose myself in her more desperately than I had realized, and I honestly wasn't sure how I felt about that.
"Okay," she finally said.
"Okay? So … you'll come? With me?"
"Yes. But I don't know how to get to you. The press is all lined up outside of my complex," she said.
"Don't worry, I've got a plan. I'm going to come for you in my black convertible. The windows are completely tinted. Put yourself in a costume, pack a large purse with a change of clothes and a few of your toiletries, and go out the back of your complex. Walk down one block to that colorful coffee shop, and I'll pick you up out back in thirty minutes. Okay?"
"Okay. I'll go get changed now," she said.
I packed a change of clothes in a small bag and tossed my toiletries in. I hopped into my car and rolled up the windows before I put my sunglasses on. I cruised into town, searching in my rearview mirror for any signs that someone was following me. I circled downtown twice, driving the speed limit and doing everything I needed to before I pulled into the back of the coffee shop.