My vision went red, and a scream tore out of my throat before I could stop it. I hurled my phone across the room and scowled when it bounced off the bed, falling harmlessly to the floor. I wanted to smash it to pieces. I wanted to smashherto pieces.
I stood up and yanked the towel off the rail before drying myself with rough strokes. I climbed out of the bath and stopped dead, looking at myself in the full-length mirror. My eyes had dark circles underneath them. My hair was a bird’s nest on top of my head, the messy bun full of knots. I needed to shave everywhere if I was going to go out on a date—there was no way I was risking prickly legs if Monroe decided to rest his hand on my thigh—but I didn’t have the energy to even get my razor from my bag.
It was all too much.
My head was spinning, the ache clanging at my temples. My heart hurt too. My chest was so full of swirling emotions that I couldn’t even begin to process them.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. I paced, anger bubbling just under my skin. I hated her for doing this. No, I hatedDadfor doing it. He was the one with the responsibility. He was the one who’d made a vow then broken it repeatedly. And I hated Mum for not trusting that I could make my own decisions where Roe was concerned.
But I was powerless to fix any of it. I couldn’t turn back time, I couldn’t force an apology from Dad or give him Mum’s forgiveness. I couldn’t make Dad walk away from Danielle, and I couldn’t, nor would I, force Mum to turn a blind eye.
Frustration ate at me until I was a shaking, achy mess. I wanted to curl up and block out the world. I wanted to be able to turn off and forget about my obligations for just one night. My shoulders sagged, and my back bowed under the weight. I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to. For starters, I’d told Monroe that I’d go out with him. I didn’t want to disappoint him, and if this was my only chance, I needed to take it. I wanted to spend time with him. But I wasn’t the kind of company he deserved tonight, and quite frankly, I wanted more than a single date with him.
I sucked in a wobbly breath and groaned on the exhale. I wanted this thing with Monroe too much to risk it being a total failure. I had to cancel. I snatched up my phone and sent Monroe a text.
I’m sorry, I can’t come tonight. Everything is falling apart and I need to regroup.
I waited for what felt like an hour for his response, but in reality it was only a few seconds.
What can I do to help?
I smiled. He really was a sweetheart.
That’s okay, it’s all family stuff.
Dots appeared, and I waited for his response to come through. They disappeared and reappeared again. I assumed whatever he was writing was long. But I was mistaken.
Okay. Talk to you tomorrow?
I couldn’t help the disappointment even though he’d given me exactly what I’d asked for—space without the pressure. It was ridiculous to think that he’d fight for me.
I sighed, sadder than I was before. I was pathetic.
nine
Monroe
My muscles had that exhausted ache that I got when I pushed myself hard in the gym. But it wasn’t only my arms and legs that were heavy. Disappointment coursed through me, dragging my shoulders down. I looked around my room and outside at the view of the twilight sky. I’d wanted to take Cara out, but only hours after saying yes, she’d pulled out. I hated that she might have felt unable to say no to me face to face. She’d used Zali as a reason initially, but I’d pushed. I shouldn’t have.
I grumbled, wanting to kick myself for my stupidity.
My stomach grumbled right back.
The team’s retreat room still had the buffet set up for another half an hour. I slipped my slides on, grabbed my phone and keycard, and headed out. If nothing else, I could introduce myself to the team and let them know I was there to assist Cara. It might help relieve the load on her.
I turned the corner to the lift and groaned. Of all the people to run into, it had to be Hux—the one and only person who’d known about my date. He was waiting, leaning against the wall without a care in the world. Dressed in dark blue jeans and agrey button-down shirt with silver threads through it, he looked like he was on his way out. His sleeves were rolled up his forearms, and I couldn’t help but admire the artwork decorating his muscular arms. I appreciated the hard work that went into maintaining a physique like that—diet, exercise, discipline, and more discipline.
“You’re dressed casually for a date,” he commented wryly. “Do they not have fancy restaurants here?”
“She cancelled,” I responded glumly before I’d even had a chance to think the words through. “Family stuff. She wasn’t feeling well,” I added so at least he didn’t think I was a complete loser.
“Hmm.”
I raised a brow and waited for him to elaborate, but when he stayed quiet, I asked, “What? What’s hmm supposed to mean?”
He shook his head, his lips pressed together as if he wanted to say more but was holding back.
“Fine. Whatever.”
