"Oh yeah? How doyouknow?"
I tried to remember. It was something Bishop had said, maybe on the night of my birthday party. Right now, I was finding it hard to remember anything. Still, I managed to say, "Bishop told me."
"Yeah? Well, maybe he's wrong."
"No. He's never wrong."
She gave me an icy smile. "Then maybe you should askBishopwhether or not I'm a hooker. I mean, he knows everything, right?" She threw up her arms. "Why am I even discussing this with you?" She turned to call over her shoulder. "Chucky!"
My heart was pounding. This was happening too fast. Somehow, I could make it right. Ihadto make it right. I reached out for her. "Baby, c'mon, don't go. Not like this."
She slapped my arms aside. "Look, let me make this really clear. Whatever we had, it's over."
No.
It wasn't over. It couldn't be over. I shook my head. "Don't say that. C'mon. I’m sorry, alright?"
"No, it'snotalright." She glared at me. "What is it with you? Why do always assume the worst about me?"
"I don't."
"You do." She turned and stalked through the house, calling out for Chucky.
I followed after her. "C'mon, Chloe." My voice broke. "Don’t go like this."
She whirled to face me. "You've got to promise me something."
"Anything."
"Don't call me. Don't talk to me. Don't–"
"Baby, c'mon–"
"Don't write me. Don't email me. Don't text me. And, if you see me on the street, don't fucking wave to me." She choked down a sob. "Just leave me alone, alright?"
Desperately, I reached out, wanting to gather her in my arms. Again, she slapped my hands aside, yelling out, "What part of 'leave me alone' don't you understand?"
I hated to see her like this. And I hated the fact that I'd caused it. "But Baby, you're upset."
"Of course I’m upset! My boyfriend–" She raised her hand. "No. Make that my ex-boyfriend, thinks I’m a damn hooker!"
"Chloe, c'mon, don't say that. That's not the way I thought of it."
"Yeah, right." She took a deep breath and wiped at her eyes. "Now, promise me."
"To leave you alone?" My insides were churning. The thought of life without her, what kind of life was that? I gave her a pleading look. "I can't."
"If you ever loved me, you can."
"Don’t ask me to." Shit, there had to be another way. I'd pay. If not with money, then with something else, anything. But not this. I gave her a desperate look. "Beat me, yell at me, whatever, but don't make me do this. Please."
She made a scoffing sound. "Look, all the time I've known you, I've never asked you for one fucking thing. And I know damn well that other girls have. So now, this is it, the first thing I've ever asked, and you can't even say 'yes'."
"Baby–"
"Promise me. I mean it."
I couldn’t.
