Page 71 of Broken Chords
He gives me a sad smile. “Yes, you do. I’m sure you’ve had years of media training, and it’s second nature now. But me? I don’t have that kind of need to hide and deflect and hold back. I’ve been all in from the beginning. To find out it was one-sided? That I invested everything, and you’ve only invested, what? Maybe fifty percent? Less?” He shakes his head. “I can’t do it, Charlie. I can’t do this anymore.”
“No, Damian. Please.” I stand up, taking a step toward him. “It’s not like that. I’m just as invested as you are. You have to believe me.”
He closes his eyes and turns his face away, taking another deep breath. “Believing you is too risky, Charlie. Being with you is too risky. For me.”
My heart freezes in my chest. It’s a lump of ice, painful and cold, and with each beat, it cracks. And cracks. And cracks. Soon, it’ll shatter into a million pieces.
If I’m too risky for Damian, then I can’t be here when that happens. I won’t shatter in front of someone who doesn’t care enough about me to listen. To let me try to make this right.
I manage to suck in a breath, wheezy and harsh. But I swallow, closing my eyes for a second, willing myself to stay calm enough not to scream or sob or break. I won’t break. Not here. Not yet.
When I open my eyes, Damian’s solemn face stares back at me. I give him a small nod. “Okay. I’ll pack my things, then. I already upgraded our tickets home to first class, but I’ll …” I give him my best impression of a smile and wave a hand in the air. “Never mind that.”
Turning, I unplug my charger from the bedside table first, and when I turn back around, he’s moved out of the way, standing in the corner by the TV, giving me free movement around the room to gather my things. That small act of heartless courtesy almost makes me start sobbing. But I blink back my tears and swallow down the wail that wants to wrench free of my throat.
Quietly, calmly, I gather my clothes and pack them in my suitcase, then move into the bathroom, pack everything there, and gently press my toiletries case into my suitcase as well. The whole process only takes about ten minutes.
Zipping my small suitcase, I stand it on end and pull out the handle before picking up my garment bag and draping it over my arm.
Damian has his glasses on now, and he’s standing in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets.
I give him another smile. “Goodbye, Damian.” I’m proud of myself for how calm, how steady my voice sounds. Turning to the door, I pull it open and pause, taking a breath.
All hope that he’d stop me dies as the door closes hard behind me. The only thing missing is the sound of the bolt clicking into place.
I’m sure he’ll wait a few minutes before doing that. He’s nothing if not polite. Even as he devastates me.
But I’m still not in a safe place. I need to get away. Away from here. From prying eyes and ears. I head for the elevators and pull out my phone. I’ll hire a car and head for the airport. Change my flight and head back to Spokane tonight. Or call my assistant and have her get my plane ready.
That.
That’s what I’ll do. No reason not to use it now. The story that I’m out of hiding will hit the internet tonight if it hasn’t already.
My ability to hide in plain sight is over.
Time to face whatever my next steps need to be. But first I need to have a good cry and put myself back together.
