Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 129027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“I don’t need sense talked into me.” I hate that he can still make me feel like a child. My tapping fingers turn into a fist.
“Fine. Then I’ll hear you out. But your mother was convinced the bodyguard had kidnapped you.”
My hand flies to my mouth. Of course that’s where her mind would go. Fucking shrew.
“Fine,” I snap. “Are you in the lobby?”
“I’m standing out front with your favorite coffee. Kir, after everything, can’t you just give me as long as a cup of coffee?”
I breathe out, furious, and nod. “Fine. I’ll be down in just a minute.”
I head back into the room to put on a pair of boots and a sweater and check on Isaak one last time. He’s still out like a light, snoring loudly. I’ll be back long before he wakes up.
I’m still careful as I close the door behind me so the latch doesn’t make any sound, then I hurry over to the elevator.
It’s better to break things off with Drew in person, anyway. That way he can’t say that Isaak was in any way coercing me from my side of the phone. Not that Isaak ever would, but I know how Drew and my mom’s kind think. Isaak doesn’t have a breeding history that he can trace back to his grandpa’s grandpa, so they think he’s low class and, therefore, capable of anything criminal. They’re disgusting, and I’ll be glad to be done with them.
The lobby is fairly empty mid-morning.
God knows why Drew couldn’t just wait in the lobby. Probably because he didn’t want evidence of his presence here on their cameras for some godforsaken reason that has to do with wanting his future presidential campaign to be free of scandal.
I push through the front doors, and there he is, standing down the sidewalk wearing shades and a big black coat like he’s the goddamn FBI. At least he’s holding the promised coffee in his hand.
I head toward him to have the world’s shortest break-up conversation.
He hands the coffee to me.
I take it, at the same time saying, “It’s over. I’m sorry. Bye.”
But before I can turn around and leave, he grabs my elbow. “Kira, you know you owe me more than that. It’s not just your future you’re throwing away here. You know I’ll face consequences, too. Could we please just have a conversation?”
I sigh. I’m not sure I owe him anything. But being around Drew always has this way of confusing me. Maybe I am being the asshole here. We were non-monogamous, but I’m still breaking off the wedding while on a trip with my new lover.
“I got your favorite coffee.”
Yeah, right. I doubt it. Drew never paid enough attention to know my order. I take a sip, and my surprised eyes hit his when the sugary cream of a white chocolate mocha hits my lips.
“See,” he says with a little smile. “I do pay attention sometimes.”
I take as long a sip as the hot drink will allow and breathe out, my breath briefly fogging the space between us. “Fine. A brief conversation. Though I really don’t know what there is to talk about.”
“Is it because of him? The bodyguard?”
I sigh again after another sip. “This has so much more to do with us than it ever did him. We’re not right for each other, Drew. You walked all over me in high school, and I let you. It was a really messed-up time for me. I was finally able to find my voice doing my graduate and Ph.D. studies, and then when you came back around and proposed, I… started losing myself all over again.”
“Okay,” he says, eyebrows going up. “Why didn’t we just talk like this? If you would’ve told me any of this, we could’ve made it right.”
I shake my head. “It’s too late for that now.”
His eyebrows drop, furrowing. “Because of him.” He almost sounds angry, which isn’t fair at all, considering how many women he’s slept with since we got engaged. But obviously what’s fair for him isn’t fair for me. There’s not even any point in arguing about that anymore.
“It’s too late for that now because I don’t want what you want. I want out of our families and the lifestyles they lead, and you want in. There’s nothing that could make me stay and marry you.”
When I see the hurt hit his face, I quickly suck down more coffee, then finish saying what needs to be said. “I’m sorry, Drew. But this is the end.”
It feels so good to say those words and mean them.
“What about your inheritance?” Drew asks, acid lacing his tone. “You think your mother will give it to you now?”
I blink slowly at him. I’ve seen this side of him before, but so rarely I could convince myself it wasn’t there. It’s ugly.