“Don’t sound so fucking surprised, Tyler. You think you’re the be all and end all for women across the land. Pissed off it wasn’t you she kissed?”
I bolt up from my chair, sending it flying back. She kissed Sal? This doesn’t make any sense. This isn’t my ego talking. I’m not wondering what the fuck she sees in my short, balding partner when she has me. It just . . . doesn’t make any sense. But then again, maybe it does. Her reluctance to tell Sal about us. Of course she wouldn’t want to tell him. Not just because he’s her direct boss, but because . . . well, she fucking kissed him. Why? Why would she do that?
“When?” I demand.
“The Thursday night we went over to the bar.” He sighs, and I cast my mind back, remembering the evening well. Sal stormed out. I assumed Moya had summoned him. “It happened and it shouldn’t have, and then I heard through the grapevine a rumor that she left her previous job under a cloud. Something about a sexual harassment claim. It scared the shit out of me, Ty. I couldn’t fire her. I’m sorry, man. I feel like such a fool,” Sal blabbers on. “I mean, look what just happened. She clearly preys on married men.” I can hardly hear him. All I can hear are Lainey’s words.
I love you.
All in.
It’s me who’s the fool. A first-class mug. I’m confused, angry . . . fucking confused.
I turn and storm out.
“Hey, Ty, where are you going?” Sal shouts. “Ty! I need your help, man.”
I can’t even feel my legs as I stalk away. I’m walking in a haze of fury, my destination set. I grab my car keys from my office and bypass the elevator, pushing my way through the door to the stairwell. The slam of the door into the bricks behind it doesn’t even penetrate my hearing or dent my purpose. I’m on autopilot, and God help anyone who gets in my way.
Throwing myself into the driver’s seat of my car, I slam it into first and screech out of the car park, skidding onto the road. I dial Lainey, and her voice when she answers twists the knife in my back. “You kissed Sal.” I state it as the fact it is and wait. And wait. And wait. “Lainey, fucking talk.”
She hangs up.
“Fuck.” I slam my fist on the steering wheel, so hard I’m sure I could have put a hole through the center. My head is swimming in questions, in images, and in words. “What the fuck is going on?” I yell, taking a corner fast.
It takes me an hour to make it across town, all the typical shortcuts failing me, the roads bumper-to-bumper with traffic. It’s a painful hour, with nothing to do but ignore endless missed calls from Gina, who’s undoubtedly wondering what’s going on. I can’t talk to Gina. Couldn’t possibly begin to explain, especially when I haven’t got a clue what’s going on myself. The only person I want to talk to right now is Lainey, even if I don’t want to hear what she says.
Screeching to a stop outside her building, I fly out of my car and half hobble half run up the steps to her apartment block, pressing and holding the button for apartment number eight so it buzzes continuously.
“All right.” Martha’s annoyed voice comes over the speaker.
I get up close to the microphone, resting my forearm on the wall beside it. “Where’s Lainey?”
“Tyler?”
“Yes, it’s me. Where is she?”
“At work, I expect. You should know, being her boss and all.”
I hit the wall with the side of my fist. “She left over an hour ago.” She should be here by now. It’s half hour tops on the Tube.
“Well, she isn’t,” she sings sarcastically. “What’s up? You sound stressed.”
“Just a fucking bit,” I mutter, looking across to my car.
“You two fallen out?”
“Yeah, that tends to happen when your girlfriend kisses your partner.” I couldn’t give a fuck that she technically wasn’t my girlfriend back then. She kissed Sal on the Thursday and the next night she was at my apartment door. So what? Sal didn’t put out so she tried her luck with me? Is she really all for suing our arses?
“What?” Martha says.
“You heard me.”
“No, she wouldn’t have. She said she was done with all that shit.”
I pull back, staring at the metal of the intercom. “Done with all what shit?”
“Oh shit,” Martha breathes.
“Martha, what shit?” I get closer to the intercom again, my chest puffing, like she might be able to see my threatening stance.
“Nothing.” She cuts the line, and I clout the wall on an infuriated roar.
“Martha,” I yell, deranged, hammering at the intercom buzzer. She’ll be calling Lainey. Giving her the heads-up that I’m here and I’m mad. “Fuck.” I pull my phone out and dial Lainey, yelling some more when it goes straight to voicemail. “No.” I dial continuously until it finally rings, but she doesn’t answer. I knew she wouldn’t. Going to the intercom again, I press the buzzer repeatedly, not averse to staying here all night until Martha answers. Luckily for me, she gets pissed off after ten minutes and picks up. I breathe down the speaker, exhausted. “Where is she?” I ask. “Tell me where she is.”
“I can’t, Ty.”
“Damn it, Martha. Why’d you tell her I’m here?”
“Because she’s my sister, and although I think she’s been a total idiot, I still love her.”
“Tell me where she is.” I lower my voice to a calmer level. “Please, Martha. I’m begging you. I’ll stay here all night, I swear.” The line muffles before going dead, and my forehead meets the rough surface of the bricks. I feel lost. Hopeless. Fucking broken.
Pulling my heavy body away from the wall, I drag my feet back to my car, ready to get comfortable and wait for Lainey to get back. She has to come home at some point, and I plan on being here when she does.
As I fall into my seat, my phone chimes, and I look down to see a text.
I’m sorry x
She’s sorry? My heart squeezes in my chest, aching. Her message is so final. That’s it? Just a pathetic sorry? I deserve more than that. I gave my fucking heart to this woman, and all she has to say is sorry? No. I need way more than that. I dial her, but it just rings and rings before clicking to voicemail. This time, I leave a message, needing to vent. “So you kissed Sal? Fucking perfect, Lainey. Great. Seems married men are your thing, yeah? Tell me, were they all married? All the men I’ve seen you with or heard about, were they all married? Is that what I’m missing here? A ring on my finger from another woman? Is that why you’ve fought me all this time? Because I didn’t fit your sick criteria?” I can’t stop myself, my mouth running away with me. But I refuse to feel guilty. She’s pulled me in and pushed me away constantly. Yet I battled to win the prize. I wanted her so badly, and now I wish above all things that I’d never laid eyes on her, let alone touched her. Because if this is what broken-hearted feels like, I’ll never risk letting myself fall in love again. “I suppose you deserve a congratulations. You made Tyler Christianson fall in love with you and then you ripped his heart out and stamped all over the fucker. Well done, you.” I laugh coldly. “Well-fucking-done. I’d like to say it was good while it lasted, but it didn’t really last, did it? All out, Lainey. I’m all fucking out.” I hang up and drop my phone to my lap, clenching my fists and pushing them into the steering wheel to stop myself from punching the window. My only regret is that I couldn’t deliver those words to her face. Make her stand before me while I shot her down in a blaze of hateful words. Would I feel any more satisfied than I do now? No, because I have not one scrap of satisfaction running through my cold veins. I have more to say. So much more, but this time, I don’t call her. I wait, because I want her to look me in the eye. I want her to face the damage she’s caused. Because, honestly, I feel utterly broken.