My eyes rise to meet hers. "Just go," I whisper.
Her eyes search mine. "Answer me."
"If you wrote the book on compartmentalizing, you should already know the answer."
Her brow furrows. "I do it to everyone in my life; I hate that I do. I've sought treatment for it for years. And then I met you, the one person I couldn't block out." Her shoulders slump in sadness. "And you go and do it to me."
We stare at each other. "April…"
"What, Sebastian?"
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
Her eyes well with tears again, and she drops her head. "Me, too."
She turns and walks out.
I hear her go downstairs, and then I hear the garage door open.
Moments later, I hear the car drive off, and I close my eyes in regret.
Fuck.
April
If there's one thing worse than falling for the wrong man, it's having to work for him once it's fallen apart.
We’re in Bristol this week. It's Tuesday night, and Sebastian hasn’t said one word to me since I left his house on Sunday.
I'm angry at myself.
How the fuck did I let myself fall for him when I knew it was dangerous?
The worst part is, I know he's not happy, either. He's been a cranky bear, and everyone is scared to even talk to him.
We are in connecting rooms, but I'm not sure why. He didn’t knock on my door last night. Perhaps it was too late to change the booking.
I didn’t go out to dinner with everyone else. I chose room service alone instead. I’m not much in the mood for socializing. I heard his door open and close about an hour ago, so I know he's in his room alone, too.
And it sucks.
I hear a faint knock on the door, and I hold my breath.
Is that him?
The lock is on his side, so I lie still in the dark. I reach up and turn my bedside lamp on, my back to his door when I hear it open slowly.
I close my eyes.
The bed dips as he lays down behind me and pulls me into his arms.
He kisses my temple. "I'm sorry."
I keep lying with my back to him, unsure what to say.
"My demons are dark," he whispers.
I frown and roll to face him. "Then let me chase them away."
"They’re too big for us."
I stare at him for a moment. "What are they?"
He swallows the lump in his throat but stays silent.
I cup his cheek in my hand, whatever he's dealing with is upsetting him. "Baby, talk to me."
His eyes search mine.
"Sebastian."
"I'm fucked up," he whispers.
I lean in and kiss his lips. "Tell me."
His brow furrows. "I can't." He pauses, and I wait. "I can't perform unless I'm with a prostitute."
I frown, confused.
"Unless I know for certain that there is no future with a woman, I can't even get it up."
I blink, shocked.
Fuck.
17
April
I stare at him, the way the shadow is throwing off the lamp, I can only partially see his face. I run my fingers through his stubble as I try to think of the right thing to say.
What do you even say to that?
"For how long?" I whisper.
"A long time."
"Since you were married?"
"Around then."
I remember Helena that day in my office, and contempt fills my every pore.
What the fuck did she do to him?
His face stays solemn and, not sure what to do, I offer him a crooked smile.
"Have you sought any treatment?" I ask.
"Like a quack?"
"A psychologist."
"They can't help me."
"Who have you talked to about this?"
"Nobody."
"Not even your friends?" I frown.
"No."
A trace of a smile crosses my face.
"Why are you smiling?"
"Because you told me. That must mean something, right?"
His brow furrows, like he’s contemplating my question.
I trace a circle with my fingertip on the sheet below me as I think. "So what you’re saying is that not all women you're physically attracted to do it for you?"
"No," he replies without hesitation.
A million things fly through my mind, none of them making sense. "And Cartier does?"
His jaw ticks. "Yes."
I nod.
"But I don’t want Cartier."
"Who do you want?"
"You."
I lean in and kiss him softly. This is fucked up, so God knows why I feel relieved.
We stare at each other for a while, and then I ask, "What would happen if I wanted you to make love to me?"
He blinks and his face twists with a frown.
I give him a moment to reply, and when he doesn’t, I answer for him. "Your body wouldn’t co-operate?"
"It's not my body that’s the problem. The attraction for me is lost."
I nod as I begin to understand.
His face is solemn. He looks so beaten down. I lean in and kiss him. "Thank you for telling me." I hold him close, and I can almost feel his pain through our hug. "This is not so bad. This is okay. We can work with this, Seb," I whisper.
"How?"
"Well?" I trace my finger down his nose. "We just take it day by day."
His eyes hold mine.
"And when you need April to be your girlfriend and to kiss and cuddle and hang out with you, she's here."
"And when I need Cartier?"
"She's here, too."
His eyes search mine. "Why would you do that?"
I roll over onto my back. "Because I get it. I can't judge. I have my own demons."
He leans up onto his elbow. "Like what?"
I stare up at the ceiling. "How long have you got?"
He smiles, encouraging me to go on.
"Well, I can't get close to anyone, for seven years now. I compartmentalize sex. I can't go home to live in America because it reminds me of him and how hard he broke me, even though all of my family and friends are there. I have a wonderful man who I've been sleeping with for four years who loves me and wants marriage and babies, yet I can't think of anything worse. I broke off with him without one single regret or afterthought. How cold can one person be? And now, to top it all off, I think I've fallen for someone who is in the public eye, and I work for him, so we can never date publicly… and I think he's just as fucked up as I am."
He smiles and pinches the bridge of his nose. Hearing our situation out loud really is comical.
"So, yeah, I can handle your demons." I smile. "I'm not sure if you can handle mine."
"Me neither." He smirks. "You do sound pretty fucked up."
I laugh out loud, and it's cathartic. He laughs too.
After a while, we fall serious.
"Seb."
"Yeah."
"Promise me something."
"What?"
"Can you keep me in the loop?"
He frowns.
"I can deal with anything you throw my way." Maybe this is too heavy to say now but I need to verbalize it. "But if you want another girl, or if you need another woman, prostitute… whatever you want to call it… it’s okay. I'm telling you that it's okay if you need someone else. I completely understand. But, you need to tell me beforehand so that I can walk away with my self-respect. If I'm going to do this, I deserve to know where your head is at. And I promise you there will be no judgement or hard feelings. I understand that sometimes." I pause as I try to articulate what I want to say. "Sometimes the demons are so bad, you need a new weapon."