I gasp and splutter out a very unladylike curse at his gall, pushing my fear away with a force of will that is borne of anger and the remembrance of that episode in the supply closet at Park’s wedding.
It would be so easy to forget every rotten thing he’s done to me and just accept the crumbs he’s willing to throw my way…something I can’t do and keep my bruised pride intact.
So instead of bowing to his wishes as usual, I snort and walk to the door, opening it with a steely-eyed stare that makes me feel wretchedly powerful.
“Leave.”
“Dove—”
“I am not your wife or girlfriend to boss around whenever the need arises. I divorced your lying ass for a reason, Vincent Blake. I want you to get out of my life and stay out. And so help me God, if you call Mama and Beau and blab to them when they’ve just recovered from his health scare, I will never forgive you!”
Not that that’s gonna make any difference to him, I think cynically, but whatever.
“Keep your bloody doors locked.”
When he’s gone I can do nothing else but sag against the closed door and stare dry-eyed at the darkened windows and the even darker night beyond.
Chapter Thirty Seven
Sleep eluded me all of last night, to the point that I’d finally crawled out of bed around four in the morning and opened the window, almost crying when I’d found Marty perched near my window sill and meowing to be let in.
Don’t laugh when I tell you that I’d carried him inside, snuggled to my chest despite the reek of garbage, and fed him a plate of the tuna I’d found in the back of the cupboard.
His bath had been a horrific ordeal of splashing water, furious cat screams, and slashing claws that had left trails of blood all over my arms. In a way Marty reminds me of Vincent, always so distant and standoffish and yet...in need of love and care and warmth.
The thought saddens me when I think about the things I’ve said and done, and for what? To save face and show him how little he means to me? This, this person I’ve become, is not who I am. Vincent may not love me, but I’d always known, somewhere deep down inside, that he’d counted on my love, grasping at it like a drowning man.
Jesus, I’m ashamed of myself, and all of a sudden I know exactly what I have to do to rectify the huge mistakes I’ve made. We may never be together again, but that doesn’t mean that I’m willing to keep on this road to nowhere.
I nestle on my sofa and watch the gray sky turn to the purples and pinks of a glorious sunrise, and I feel better. It’s a new day, another night that I’ve survived, and I feel…ready to let my fear go and be the woman who’d fallen so heedlessly in love all those months ago.
“Well, Marty ol’ pal, what say you and I go do something special?” I ask the cat, standing to my feet slowly.
Grabbing up the phone, I ring downstairs and go to work, getting everything ready in record time, when Henson knocks on my door and greets me with a smile.
“Hiya, Mrs Blake. Uh, sorry, Miss Bennet. Are your packages ready?”
“Yeah, come on in, Hen. This is everything. Please, don’t let them ruin anything. These are worth a lot.”
“Sure thing.”
“Hey, that guy last night, I wanted to ask how he got up here without clearance,” I cut in.
His brow furrows, wrinkling his deep brown eyes.
“No one gets in without clearance, ma’am. Unless you’re talking about Tony. He been bothering you? I’ve spoken to building management about him turning up in the middle of all hours on the excuse of doing his job, but you know how it is. Hate the thought of the maintenance guy skulking around, though.”
“What? I’m not talking about the maintenance guy, Hen, I’m talking about Mr Blake. How did he get in without clearance?”
“Mr Blake? He don’t need clearance, Miss Bennet. He owns the whole building,” Henson laughs, shaking his head with a laugh. “Anyhow. I’ll take these and get them delivered.”
“Thanks.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry when I close the door behind him and slowly walk towards the bedroom in a daze. Vincent…you’re always one step ahead of me, aren’t you?
He’d done…no, he’s always done what he thought necessary to protect me. I know now that his easy capitulation in the lawyer’s office had been the exact opposite of what he’d wanted.
I know I’m assuming, trying to save myself or piece my heart back together with fragile hope, but I’m pretty positive I know that he’d let me go because he’d wanted me to be happy.
That makes me want to burst with happiness, because I now know Mama was right. Vincent’s been allowing me to lead him around like a freaking dog while scrambling to keep me within his reach, to protect me.