For a second, I worry that something terrible happened to him too. He looks stricken, deeply troubled. Almost as bad as I’ve ever seen him.
“Oh my God, what happened?” I whisper. “Is Phoebe okay?”
“Oh, yeah. No, she’s fine. Everything’s fine over there.” He jerks a thumb in the direction of his apartment.
“Okay, good. So, what’s up? I have to get to the airport—”
“Kitty.” He holds out his tablet, where he was just looking through news items related to finance. There’s a stock ticker running across the top of the browser screen.
And a big, fat headline under that ticker. CLEARY OIL STOCKS STABILIZE AFTER NEWS OF MERGER.
“Okay. What has that got to do with anything?”
“Keep going. Read the rest of it.”
“I really don’t have time for this,” I mutter, but I do as he asked, if only to get him to leave me alone.
I read the first line out loud. “The sudden death of Cleary Oil patriarch Patrick Cleary comes as a heavy blow to his family—though, if it could be considered one, a silver lining in this situation was the bedside wedding of Cleary Oil heir and eldest son, Paxton, to his longtime girlfriend, Lana Jones.” I gasp in dismay.
There’s more, but I can’t read. Not only is there no more breath left in my lungs, but the words are also all blurring in front of my eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Kitty. I’m glad I caught you before you went to the airport.”
“I don’t understand,” I whisper. It’s like a bomb just went off in my head.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m sure it only had to do with business.”
My head snaps up in time with the first tears rolling down my cheeks. “Thank you for the consolation. I have to go now.” I close the door before he has a chance to say anything else—like, for instance, that I no longer have anyplace to go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“How could I have been so stupid?” How many times have I asked myself that question today? Probably once for every balled-up tissue around me, and there are a lot of tissues.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” Hayley is whispering, her voice echoing in her office bathroom. She’s been calling during bathroom breaks to check on me ever since I sent her an all-caps text not long after Matt’s little visit.
“How could I let myself believe he was going to be my happily ever after? The way his dad was yelling at him. The way she looked at him at the party. The way his family basically treated me like dirt—”
“You can’t blame yourself,” she insists. “I won’t say there’s a perfectly logical explanation because none of this makes any sense to me either. But I’m sure it had nothing to do with you.”
My laughter is a little bitter and certainly humorless. “I’m glad to know the fact that the man I was dating married another woman not three days after the last time we slept together—not to mention the birthday party he threw for me—had nothing to do with me.”
“You know what I mean. He wasn’t rejecting you.”
“Then, what was he doing? This definitely puts a damper on us getting together again, don’t you think? God, how could I have fallen for him?”
“I wish so much that there were something I could do. There’s nothing so painful as listening to someone you love going through something like this.”
All that does is make me cry harder than ever. Wasn’t I just thinking that about Paxton before going to sleep last night? Twelve hours ago, I was still under the delusion that there might be a future for us. That my presence at the hospital could grant him a measure of peace.
Dear God, what would’ve happened if I had shown up at the hospital? How much of a sucker would that have made me? And that nasty Charlotte would’ve probably taken pleasure in it too. Finally making sure I was put in my place.
“I have to go, but I’ll call you back in a little while. Hang in there, okay?”
“I’ll do what I can.” I drop the phone on the floor next to the couch before curling up in a ball, alternately punching and hugging a pillow, depending on whether I feel angry or sad.
What I didn’t tell Hayley, what I couldn’t bring myself to mention, is the number of missed calls from none other than Paxton Cleary. He’s tried to call me six times this morning alone and sent countless texts, none of which I’ve read.
He doesn’t deserve another minute of my time. That much I’m firm on.
The apartment is so quiet. Eventually, I can’t take it anymore, can’t listen any longer to the sound of my crying. I put a movie on my laptop and then another, dozing on and off. I wish I could just go to sleep and stay that way, wish I could forget everything for a little while.
Maybe I should order up a whole bunch of alcohol from the store around the corner. Do they deliver in times of crisis? I could look it up, but I don’t even have the energy to check. That would require actual effort even if it would only be a little bit.
Around three o’clock, there’s a gentle knock at the door. “Could you use a visitor? There’s an adorable dog who would like to say hi to you.”
I can’t see Matt right now. I can’t face him. He was right; he was right the whole time. I’m so ashamed.
“Thank you but not right now,” I manage in a choked voice since, big surprise, I’m crying all over again.
God, I was so hopeful. Watching those fireworks with Paxton’s arms around me, knowing he had gone to all that trouble just for me. What is wrong with him that he would do that? What have I ever done in my life to deserve being led on that way?
I fall asleep again, and this time, when I wake up, it’s dark. It makes sense I slept for so long. I’d hardly gotten any sleep last night since I was worried about that no-good piece of nothing. I’m even angry about that—the fact that I wasted sleep over him. Worrying about him, wanting to be with him, wanting to spare him at least a little of the strain I knew he was going through. What a joke. It’s like I walked right into a punch, like I left myself wide open to be hurt.
Though this is a little deeper than hurt. This is closer to devastation.
God, I really thought he might be the one. In the middle of the night, back at the ranch, sharing his bed. Watching him sleep, wondering to myself what it would be like to watch him sleep every night. To wake up next to him every morning. To ride at his side—because obviously, in my little fantasy, I would’ve gotten over my fear of horses.
I allowed myself to think ahead, into the future and what it might hold for us.
And let’s not even get started on the nonrefundable plane ticket and how the price was jacked up to high heavens, thanks to the fact that I bought it last minute. Just another stupid thing to add to the list of stupidity I managed.
I’m on my way to the kitchen to open the only bottle of wine in there when there’s another knock at the door. “Matt, I’m sorry. I’m not in the mood for company, but I appreciate you stopping by.”
“Kitty? I have to talk to you. Please, let me in.” The voice on the other side of the door stops me in my tracks.
My stomach churns. I have to hold on to the counter if I have any hope of staying upright.