Page 45 of Until Ace

Not that I didn’t know that before.

I did.

It’s only now that I see it in full color.

It’s sad, really, that it took my apartment being broken into and trashed, and nice old ladies across the hall being put in danger, for me to see the light.

No, I have to deal with it myself.

It’s going to be the last time I help my family before I tell them to get out of my life unless they can come and enjoy it with me.

They can’t function unless they’re tearing someone down or leeching money and life from them. Namely, me.

So before I truly sever all the ties with them, I’ll help them one last time.

And then… and then I’m free.

Maybe I can become a person who’s worthy of someone like Ace.

Who’s as grand as Beverly seems to think I am.

Who’s kind and fun to be around.

Someone who’s not the me I am right now.

“Let’s get to it,” I say to the empty room. I step over the pile of torn clothes and look around, walking through the place and going into my bedroom, trying to assess where to start. At the mess in here, I consciously block the images of destruction and focus on one thing at a time. I can’t imagine how anyone could be so cruel and tear apart someone’s sanctuary.

I know he probably doesn’t know it, but c’mon, I’m a woman, and the bedroom is every woman's sanctuary. At least on some level.

I turn around and walk to the front of the apartment.

If I get my place sorted out, and soon, I know I’ll feel better and can look at what needs to be done next. There’s this overwhelming problem in my life, but for now, all I can focus on is getting my home in order.

So yeah, first, tackle the apartment, and next, I’ll tackle my family.

I’m so lost in my own mind, switching between the pity party I have going on and giving myself a pep talk, going from my bedroom to the living room, and nodding at every decisive thought, that I don’t see the man standing near my couch.

I left the door open so Beverly could just come in. And honestly, there is no pretending that thing would stop anyone from entering, since it’s barely hanging on by its hinges.

When I look up, a soft scream flies out of my throat, my hand going to my mouth in a useless effort to shove the sound back. My heart starts galloping in my chest, probably trying to beat out of it, so it can run to the safety of my closet, and the muscles in my legs lose almost all ability to hold me up, turning to jelly.

“Ace,” I let out shakily, my hand falling to my chest. My heart doesn’t slow down, but instead, it starts beating faster just at the sight of him.

God, he’s handsome.

If given a chance to look at him day in and day out until my dying breath, I don’t think I would ever get used to his beauty.

But most of all, his deep-brown eyes.

Eyes that now are barely containing the storm brewing in them.

It’s almost as if he doesn’t hear or see me standing in front of him.

“Ace, what’s wrong?” I rush to him, looking everywhere, trying to figure out what happened. Has someone come in while I was in the bedroom and I didn’t hear them?

When I see no threat lurking anywhere, I focus back on Ace.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” I urge him when all he does is stand in the middle of the mess, looking strangely at me, but he’s looking right through me.