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Let the Hunger Games cannon go on our relationship because there’s no future in it. I don’t care how he feels about me, he won’t pick me over the Sloane package. There’s no fucking way.
And I get that he still has feelings for me. I totally believe that he didn’t like the way Sloane went about capturing him before he was ready to move into the gilded cage, and now maybe he wants to punish her a little.
But he’s not going to use me to do it.
In a way, I feel sorry for her, because while she’s getting the guy we both want, he will not be an easy ride for her, especially if she keeps trying to handle him the way she did going in. He’s wrecked me this much in a couple of weeks, and he’ll have a whole lifetime to destroy her, so… she deserves my condolences.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
I stop listening to sad music and I ask Addison to get in touch with Ryan for me so I can send him to retrieve my clothes from Killian’s apartment—or, I guess, actually Roger Whitley’s apartment that he was letting his future son-in-law use.
I know I can’t stay at the Zeta house because I can’t torture myself with a front-row seat, but I can’t let Killian provide for me, either. His support comes with strings, and as long as he is the one arranging for a roof over my head, he’ll always have a key to the front door.
So when Silvan approaches me—unmasked this time—to tell me Killian told him I needed a place to live and there’s an apartment available in his dad’s building, I tell him no thanks.
I do a little research myself because I know I can’t live alone—he’ll break in—and I can’t live with anyone he can intimidate—he’ll scare them off—which doesn’t leave me with a lot of great options.
But it turns out the Dean of Calhoun University has a daughter named Sally Stern who really likes cats and French roast coffee. She also has an apartment with an extra bedroom that she’s looking to rent out, and since I recall something Killian said to me about Kyle’s copycat society potentially drawing heat from the Dean, I know that means Blue Bloods are not immune to expulsion.
So he can’t break into the Dean’s daughter’s apartment.
Which is now also my apartment.
That will give me the space I need from him.
I haven’t found a new job yet, but with the money Killian gave me, I have enough of a cushion that I can wait until the semester is over to look. I don’t mind spending his money because I deserve compensation for the emotional damage he inflicted on me, and he’s marrying into the Whitley family, so he can afford it.
It’s the only trickle down I’m ever gonna see from a billionaire in my lifetime, so I’m keeping it.
I use some of my money to buy Addison the perfect “thank you for hosting me when my heart was broken” gift. I don’t want to get her something ordinary because Addison is not ordinary, so I decide to splurge on a custom water bottle that says, “He’s not Kenough.”
When I give it to her, it makes her so happy, you’d think it was $10,000. She squeezes me tight, says, “You have no idea how much I love this,” then snaps a picture of it on her desk and immediately sends it to her family group chat.
I have to make some sacrifices to avoid Killian.
I have to give up my Tuesday seminars.
I figure come spring semester, he’ll have moved on and I can start going to them again, but right now, my determination to be strong and stay out of his way is too fragile. I can’t let him force his presence on me; I might break immediately, and I don’t want to let him think I’m going to play this game with him.
I don’t want to be anyone’s mistress, not even his.
I don’t give up the gym on Wednesday, though, and that proves my fatal mistake.
It’s a warmer day than usual, so I leave the gym with my hair in a ponytail, my yoga pants on, wearing just a sweater I bought myself from the school merch shop. The air is crisp, and the breeze feels nice against my flushed skin. I’m drinking out of the water bottle Addison ordered me after I ordered hers, which reads, “Addison’s favorite Barbie.”
And then there he is, standing at the bottom of the steps out of the building.
He’s wearing a gray hoodie and sweatpants, so it’s possible he’s just here to work out too, but I doubt it. He knows what time I come to the gym, and he had to know he’d run into me.
“You’re a hard woman to pin down these days,” he states.
Once my heart returns to my chest, I take the steps casually, as if unaffected by him. “That’s by design,” I say, flashing him a sweet smile as I brush past him.
He sighs, and I know it’s partially for show, but I think it’s a little real, too. “You’re killing me.”
He’s killing me, too. I don’t know why I did that. His scent caught the air and now my stomach hurts, but I don’t let it show.
We broke up, and we are never ever getting back together.
