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I'm afraid that if I don't leave now, leaving will only get harder. I'll only fall deeper. When our sandcastle gets knocked down, I'm terrified it'll break me.
I don't know how to be broken. I don't like to be vulnerable. Giving Roman any more power over me is just asking to wake up one day shattered into pieces I can't put back together. I realized that this morning.
Whether it's his job or Tahani, eventually, something will pop our little bubble, and I'm the one who's going to end up alone.
So I shut him out today and tried to pull away. It didn't make me feel any better, though. Every time he touched me, all I wanted was to lean into him and let him take care of me. I wanted to tell him that I love him.
I told him I wasn't mad at him, but that was a lie. I'm mad as hell that he freaked out on me. I'm mad that he stormed out. It isn't even his fault that I tripped on the stupid stairs and fell, but I'm mad at him for that, too. If I hadn't been crying over him, I would have seen the step I missed. Mostly though? Well, mostly, I'm mad at him for not loving me, too.
You aren't fucking leaving me, Mila. Not now and not ever, baby.
What did he mean?
What does he want from me?
Every part of my heart keeps yelling at me to stop trying to reason my way out of his life and find out. It keeps telling me to stop thinking and talk to him. To find a way to make this work because it's worth it. Because he's worth it.
I'm scared, though. So fucking scared that he doesn't feel the same way about me, and I'm going to end up with a broken heart.
As the sun sets and shadows rapidly overtake the room, my phone rings. I roll toward the sound, and tears immediately spring to my eyes. Moving fucking hurts. Stubbornly, I refuse to give up. Instead, I grit my teeth against the pain and stretch as far as I can, hitting the lamp to turn it on. Once that's done, I grab the phone.
"Hello?" I mumble as soon as it's at my ear. My voice is rough with pain and the tears I'm fighting. I've never hurt this badly in my life. And yet, my stupid heart hurts worse than any of my injuries.
"Hello. I'm trying to reach Ms. Mila Lawson," an unfamiliar, upbeat woman says.
"This is Mila." I pull the phone from my ear and look at the number. It's familiar, but I'm not sure why.
"Oh, great," she chirps. "This is Molly Tamo with the Costei Literary Agency. I'm sorry to be calling so late, but we received your resume, and Mr. Costei would love to meet with you."
Before I can respond to her, the bedroom door opens, and Roman walks in with a pill bottle in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.
My gaze lands on him, and my mouth immediately goes dry.
God, why does he have to be so freaking gorgeous?
It's really not fair that he's tall, dark, handsome, and built like a damn mountain. Just looking at him makes my heart race, and my body temperature ratchet up a notch. Even hurting like I am, I want him.
His hazel eyes meet mine, and I get lost in his gaze for a minute. His expression is so contradictory. I'm not sure what he's thinking. There's softness and doubt, a little bit of anger and fear…and a whole lot of worry and desire.
"Ms. Lawson? Are you still there?" Molly asks.
I blink, tearing my gaze from Roman.
"Oh, um, yes. I'm sorry. I would love to meet with Mr. Costei," I say, my voice shaking.
Roman freezes halfway across the room. I feel his eyes on me, burning hot. I avoid looking at him again, scared I'll get caught up in his gaze once more and sound like an even bigger idiot on the phone.
"Great," Molly says. "He's out of town until next Tuesday. Would you be available to meet with him on Thursday? Say around three?"
"Next Thursday at three?" I confirm as Roman moves closer, forcing himself back into my line of sight. He isn't going to let me ignore him any longer. Of course he isn't. Truthfully, I'm surprised he let me at all.
"Yes. Will that work for you?"
"Y-yes. That will be fine," I whisper, my gaze stuck on him again. He's watching me like he always does, studying me. He looks pissed off and uncertain at the same time. That look makes me nervous. He's so self-assured, uncertainty looks foreign on him.
"Excellent. I'll let him know to expect you. I see from your resume that you graduated from Berkeley, so you shouldn't have any problems locating us. If you do need directions, you can call this number and someone will get you sorted out."
"That sounds great. Thank you."
