Page 82 of Unravel Me

How could she think I'd leave her? Had I ever done anything to make her doubt me? Was I a damn fool? Were the signs there all along?

No, I refuse to believe that.

As the shower turns on, I hear her sniffling, surely crying, and a part of my heart cracks open. I hate to see her in pain, but she hid the truth from me for three months.

It took several years to get to where I am; committed and taking a relationship seriously.

Was it in my imagination, all the talk about what we wanted in life? Where we’d be in a few years? The house. The fucking hydrangeas.

I had seen a future with Audrey.

Fuck, I still do.

I can’t take it anymore, so I stand up and leave the room, letting the door slam shut behind me. The hallway smells like a candle store, and a couple nearly knocks into me as they pass by, not noticing I'm even there. I start to undo the top few buttons on my shirt and notice it’s stained with blood.

Blue brings out your eyes, they are my favorite thing about you. Audrey was so excited to buy me this shirt.

Hightailing it out of the elevator, I beeline for the hotel bar. The entire place is full of fuckers who look like Jackson. Or maybe that’s just me seeing red again. I don’t regret knocking that prick out, that’s for damn sure.

“Good evening, sir, what can I get you?” The bartender in a bowtie asked me, eyeing me up and down. I don’t bother looking at him, eyeing the shelf behind him.

“Double whiskey, thanks.” My voice is gruff, and he mumbles something I don’t bother listening to. I scan the bar, feeling out of place—a sensation which never bothered me before. But tonight, it weighs on me heavily.

I always thought it was my superpower to be carefree, but maybe not caring was a mistake. It led me here, fooled by a woman like Audrey.

What the hell was I doing with a woman like Audrey Elson? I could knock out her exes, not giving a shit how barbaric I acted. I could protect her, but clearly, I couldn’t give her everything she needed. Or she wouldn’t need an escape route from the life I thought we were building together.

My wallet was slim, my house was humble. I didn’t have a trust fund to fall back on, or parents' money to bail me out. She claimed she didn’t care about those things. But maybe I’m just an ass who was so in love I couldn’t see the truth.

I could never give Audrey the lifestyle she was used to, and even if she said otherwise, the approval of her parents meant something to her. Something I permanently damaged tonight.

The bartender places the drink on the counter in front of me, and within seconds, it’s gone, the burn in my throat providing a welcome distraction from my racing thoughts.

“I’ll take another one.” I know how it looked, my head hung low, my bruised fingers up to get the bartender's attention. His hesitation was palpable but my craving to numb the pain was bigger.

Feeling a bit numb after four shots of whiskey, I waltz back to the room, my lips in a tight line, knowing saying nothing was better than confusing Audrey with the words of a brokenhearted man.

Chapter forty-six

Audrey

The text asking Rhett where he went remains unread. I’m not entirely surprised, even if it stings. We’ve traveled here together after all, and I don’t want to turn him to the wolves in a place like this. Rhett could hold his own, but I had promised I’d keep him safe here. Whatever that means now.

As I comb my wet hair, going through the motions of my nighttime routine in the bathroom, the hotel room door opens, my heart hammering in my chest.

Meeting my tired gaze in the backlit mirror, I wait in silence as Rhett shuffles around on the other side of the door. There’s sounds of luggage opening, the thud of shoes. All of it brings tears to my eyes, but I swallow them back, pull on the weighty robe, like it’s an anchor that’ll protect me, and slowly pad into the suite.

He didn’t turn on the overhead lights, so only a glow from the bedside lamp illuminates him as he stands facing the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. The muscles in his back and neck are tense, and as I stand there awkwardly waiting, I know we aren’t going to be talking tonight.

But I can’t help but offer my care.

“Can I get you ice for your hand?” My quiet voice cuts through the room like a knife.

Barely turning to look at me, Rhett shakes his head. I nod even though he isn’t looking.

“Thank you,” he adds but that only makes it worse. Because only Rhett would still be polite to me after tonight.

I want to get him ice, curl up in his lap holding it to his fist, laughing about something odd we saw at the airport together. He’d kiss my neck, and I’d love the smell of whiskey on him. I’d fall asleep tangled in the sheets, my head resting on his tattooed chest, a faint smile on my lips as his heart beats beneath me.