Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
He remained next to me, lingering against the counter like he was trying to search for the right words to change my mind. But he seemed to realize that the more he pursued me, the more he would push me away. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” He left the kitchen and entered the living room. The sound of his loafers tracked his location through the apartment. Then I heard the front door open and shut.
That was when I knew he was gone.
Chapter 8
Axel
Two weeks.
It’d been two weeks since I’d last seen her. Since I’d last heard from her.
Every day was just as agonizing as the one before, and I started to wonder if it would ever get better. A part of me hoped she would realize she couldn’t live without me and come back.
But she didn’t.
There were times when I wanted to text. Times when I wanted to stop by her apartment just to see how she was doing. But since she was the one who’d decided to leave the relationship, I wasn’t in a position to do that. If I pursued her, it wouldn’t be romantic, just harassment.
Times like these made me reconsider killing Dante. If I couldn’t have her, then neither could he.
I was on the couch in my bedroom, my date for the evening a decanter of scotch, when Aldo knocked on the door.
I was still pissed at him for the fiasco with Theo, so I ignored him.
Aldo knocked again.
“Fuck off. I’m not hungry.”
“Sir, Scarlett is here to see you.”
In a nanosecond, my world changed. The dull grays suddenly turned brilliant. A rush of emotion burst through me and erased the numbness. I moved off the couch so quickly that I tripped and stumbled forward before catching myself on the other couch. I made my way to the door and ripped it open so hard it swung around and made a dent in the wall. “She’s here. Now?”
“She’s waiting in the parlor.”
My heart raced so fast that it made me realize I hadn’t had a heartbeat these last two weeks. Adrenaline. Endorphins. Ecstasy. Everything rushed through me like a needle had just been injected into my arm. “Did she say why she’s here?”
“No.”
“Does she have papers with her?” Divorce papers. I hadn’t filed, and if she really wanted to be free of me, she would have to do the dirty work herself.
“Not that I recall, sir. But I suppose her purse is big enough to stash some paperwork…” He stared at me.
I stared back.
“Will you see her?”
“Yes, I just need a minute.”
“Of course.” He reached around and grabbed the door before he shut it.
I walked into the bathroom and quickly rinsed my mouth to hide the evidence of the scotch. I was in just my sweatpants without a shirt and I considered changing, but then I realized it was nearly eight o’ clock and she knew I was never dressed when I was home. Didn’t want to make it seem like I tried too hard. Until I knew the purpose of her visit, I didn’t want her to see my hand. I wasn’t the kind of guy to play games, but this was a match I had to win.
I headed downstairs and approached the parlor. The double doors were open, and Aldo had already prepared a fire. She sat in one of the armchairs, her gaze on the flames, the light blanketing her features in a tantalizing glow. It was the first time I’d seen her since she’d left, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at her pictures on my phone because it would only make her absence hurt more. I was rooted to the spot, remembering the softness of her cheek when my fingers brushed against it. Our estrangement had been brief, but it felt like years since I’d seen her. She even looked different, like it’d been two years instead of two weeks.
I stepped into the room, and her head immediately turned when she heard me. Instead of remaining in her chair, she got to her feet, her hands immediately coming together at her waist, something she did when she was nervous.
I stared at her.
She stared at me.
My heart raced like an off-beat drum.
Her expression was composed, but her eyes were a little wider than they normally were, showing the same adrenaline that I was sure raced in her veins.
I came closer to her, standing near the fire.
She didn’t look at my bare chest, her eyes glued to mine.
I glanced at her bag on the table. The top was closed, so I couldn’t see the contents inside. My eyes flicked back to hers, desperate to know the reason for her visit. If she wanted me back, I expected a different reception than this guarded one. If she wanted a divorce, she could just mail the papers.
She broke eye contact first, her breaths so elevated that her chest visibly rose and fell. She looked at the fire for a few seconds before she found the strength to look at me again. But no words were forthcoming.