“So fix it,” Ross says. “The guys come home tonight. Ian told me. Go to his place and force him to talk to you. He can’t avoid you if you’re in his apartment. He deserves the truth.”
“But I don’t know what the truth is. All I know is that I didn’t write it.”
“So explain that to him. Let him know that you plan on getting to the bottom of this.”
“I don’t know, Ross.” I sigh. “Maybe I should just give up. He’s probably better off without me.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” Ross comes closer and places his hand on my leg. “Ollie, you’ve been significantly happier since you’ve been together. He even said it himself that he was learning to trust again.”
“That means nothing when I lost that trust.”
“Well then, tell me this,” he says. “You said you love him, right? Are you just going to give up on that? Do you think you could get over him?”
“No,” I say. “But I don’t think I have a choice. I think it’s inevitable.”
“It is if you don’t try.” He pushes at my leg. “Just go over there, talk to him. Get him to listen to you.”
I pull my weighted blanket that smells like him closer to my face. “And what if he doesn’t believe me?”
“He will. Trust me. You just need to talk it out. Okay?”
I roll my teeth over my trembling l*p. “I don’t know.”
“You’ll regret it if you don’t. Talk to him, make sense of it all.” Ross is right. I can’t imagine ever feeling how I feel for Silas for anyone else. He’s such a good man. Private, thoughtful, caring, kind, funny . . . just perfect. I can see my life with him. Through ups and downs, wins and losses, good assignments and bad assignments. I can see how we balance each other out. And I can’t just let that go. Let him go.
I take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”
**************************************
OLLIE
From the moment I stepped into Silas’s apartment, I knew this was a bad idea.
The last thing I’m sure he wants to see when he gets home after a brutal road trip is me, but Ross is right. If I’m going to have any chance at salvaging this relationship with Silas, then I need to talk to him. And the only way I can do that is if I’m at his place.
Doesn’t make it any less intimidating.
Because I have this horrible feeling that this is the end of us. That there is no coming back from this. And the more I think about that, the more I can’t hold back my emotions. Because I love this man. I love him more than anyone I’ve ever loved, anyone I’ve ever been with.
He’s made me feel beautiful again.
He’s made me feel like I matter.
He’s put a smile on my face every day, and the knowledge that it could all end after tonight has my stomach in absolute knots.
I got a text from Ross about a half hour ago letting me know that the boys landed, so Silas should be home any minute.
I check my phone for the time just as the front door unlocks.
Nerves shoot through my veins, and as the door opens, I brace myself for what’s to come.
I stand from the couch, wearing his sweatshirt and a pair of leggings, hoping and praying he’ll give me a chance.
He steps into the apartment wearing a stunning dark gray three-piece suit that clings to every part of his body. He rolls his suitcase inside, then shuts the door behind him and locks it. When he turns around and spots me, he freezes.
His l*ps thin.
His brow turns down.
And I immediately know I’m not welcome.
“What the f**k are you doing here?” he asks.
Hands trembling, legs about to give out, I take a step forward and say, “I really need to talk to you.”
“About what?” he asks as he tosses his keys on the entryway table and walks over to the kitchen. That’s when I catch the black under his eye as well as the swelling. My heart aches, knowing I’m the reason he has that. I’m the reason he’s had such a rough few days. I’m the reason his team now has two losses.
“About the article,” I say.
“Nothing to talk about,” he replies as he grabs a beer from his fridge and pops it open. “You decided to take advantage of me to gain momentum in your career. Simple as that.”
He downs what seems like half of the can.
“I . . . I didn’t write that,” I say.
He lowers his can of beer and looks me in the eyes. “Do you really expect me to believe that? You wrote that f**king article. I read it before you turned it in. That was yours.”
“Yes, it was,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper from how tight my throat is. “But that part about you, it wasn’t written by me. I wouldn’t do that to you, Silas.”
“Wouldn’t you, though?” he asks. He takes another gulp of his beer and then sets it down on the counter. “You were desperate to make something of yourself, to imp**ss Roberts, so what would stop you from using me? Seems like it’s worked out for you. The story is everywhere.”
“I wouldn’t do that, Silas. I wouldn’t do that to the man I love.”
“Love?” He scoffs with an ugly laugh. “You don’t f**king love me, and don’t even try to claim that you do,” he says while reaching into the fridge for another beer. “No one would ever write that about the person they love.”
“Silas, I didn’t write—”
“You f**ked me, took what you wanted, and left me bleeding,” he says, his voice growing angrier. “Was it worth it?” He tips his beer back and chugs.
For the third time, I say, “I didn’t write that—”
“Don’t f**king bullshit me, Ollie,” he yells and slams his beer on the counter next to his empty can. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. Before you turned in your article, three f**king people knew about Sarah cheating on me.” He holds up three fi**gers. “Me, Sarah . . . and you.”
“Well, did you ask Sarah? Maybe she said something.”
“She came up to me, horrified because her life has drastically changed. She’s getting harassed, about to lose her job, and her name is being dragged through the mud. She wouldn’t have done that to herself.”
“And you believe her?”
He takes a step forward. “Why the f**k would she damage her image to make you look better to your boss?”
It’s a good point.
“You’re out of options, Ollie. You sure as hell know it wasn’t me who said anything. No one else knew, so tell me again how this is not your fault.”
I can’t.
I have no answers for him.
No reason as to why or how this happened. I’m just as confused as he is.
“I’m . . . I’m sorry, Silas.”
He shakes his head. “Get the f**k out of here. Leave your key on the table.”
“Silas, please. Just give me a second to figure this all out. I can talk to Roberts and see what happened.”
“What the f**k do you not understand when I say get out of here?” he asks, yelling. He flings his arm toward the door. “Leave. You’re dead to me, Ollie.”
“Silas . . . you don’t—”
“Leave!” he yells. “Now. Get the f**k out of my life.”
And with that, he walks toward his bedroom without looking back. And I know, that’s the last time I’m going to see him.
That’s the last time I’ll talk to him.
There’s no coming back from this.
A sad, heartbreaking reality I’ll have to face.
* * *
Ollie: Five minutes and counting.
Ross: How do you feel?
Ollie: Nauseous.
Ross: You can do this.
Ollie: The only reason I’m doing this is so I have answers.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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