“Haven’t heard from you in a few days,” I say. “Coming by to check on you.”
I glance over her shoulder.
“You alone?” I ask.
She glances over mine. “Yeah. Come in.”
“You’re all dressed up. Going somewhere?”
She runs her hands along the black fabric of a modest dress that covers her curved frame. Her hair is combed back into some kind of fancy contraption, and her lips are redder than the beat up Porsche in her garage. Polished nails fidget with a dainty diamond bracelet on her left wrist, and she smells like a flower shop.
“I have a charity thing tonight,” she says.
“For Brooks?”
She nods. “Don’t want to go. Just making a quick appearance. Brenda’s running the show.”
“Been worried about you,” I say. “Ever since the other day.”
“Really? What for?”
“You weren’t yourself.” I reach for her face, unable to resist the urge to touch her a minute longer, but she pushes my hand to the side. “And the way you left . . .”
Taking a step back, she says, “Everything is just so complicated right now, and I’m just trying to deal with one thing at a time. I don’t know where you fit into all this, and to be honest, I don’t have the energy to deal with us right now, so . . .”
“So what are you saying? That’s it? You’re going to focus on Brooks now? So long, Royal?”
Her arms loop across her chest and pull tight. “This isn’t about me choosing one or the other.”
“But it kind of is.” I step toward her. She steps back. “You can’t be with fucking Brooks, Demi. You can’t. I won’t let you. You don’t have to pick me, but for the love of God, do not pick him.”
“I’m not picking either of you.”
Her words follow with staunch silence.
I’m trapped in her gaze, watching the quiver of her lower lip and using all the strength I have not to bite it with a kiss.
“Brooks doesn’t remember leaving me,” she says, placing her palm on my face because she knows what I’m about to say. “So for now, for the foreseeable future, I have to play the part.”
“You don’t have to play anything.” I scoff at her ridiculous declaration. “Did you ask him about his mistress? About the fucking credit cards?”
“No, Royal. I didn’t.” Her pretty blue eyes roll. “I haven’t exactly had the opportunity, and the man just woke up from a week-long coma. I’m not about to take him to trial over his crimes. There’s an art to war.”
“But look at you, all loyal, right by his side like nothing happened.” I knock the heel of my palm against my forehead and then glide my fingers through my hair, tugging handfuls at the roots.
I feel it.
I feel her slipping away.
I’m losing her all over again, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
This.
This is hell.
This is my own personal, living nightmare.
“You have it all wrong.” She bites her lip, shaking her head hard enough that a tendril of hair comes loose. “I have no loyalty to him. I’m just waiting for the right time to exit this whole thing gracefully.”
“Ha.” My hands hook my hips. “Of course you are. And by that time, he’ll have weaseled his way back into your heart, you’ll have forgiven him, and you’ll be honeymooning in Italy.”
The room goes dark for a fraction of a second, and a hot sting radiates from my cheek.
Demi retracts her palm, taking a step away from me. Judging by the way her mouth hangs, she’s just as shocked by the slap as I am.
I rub the tender spot for a quick second and let it go.
She doesn’t apologize, and I’m not angry with her for the slap. It’s a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.” Her words are low and steady. “You deserved it, Royal. For so many reasons. Reasons I don’t have time to get into right now, because I’m running late.”
The clock on the wall catches her eye, and she pushes past me to grab a coat from the closet in the foyer.
“We’re not finished.” I mean it in every sense of the word.
“We are.” Demi slips the coat over her delicate shoulders, disappearing into a wrap of blackness.
“So this is it?”
Her tongue slicks across the seam of her lips and she shrugs.
“For now.”
“Then what was the other day? At my place? What did that mean?”
“I wish I knew.” Demi shrugs. “On second thought, maybe I know, and maybe you’re just not ready to hear the answer.”