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Sebastian gets up and moves toward me.
“Don't you dare touch me!” I glare hard at him.
“Paislee, I wasn't trying to ruin your career.”
“Oh my God,” I exclaim.
My heart is beating hard and fast. I don't think I have ever been betrayed like this before.
“Oh my God,” I repeat as I walk toward the door. Blood and water rush to my ears, and I lose my ability to walk for a couple of seconds.
“Paislee,” I hear Sebastian's voice behind me. This time he does try to follow me, but I don't allow him near me.
“I need time to be by myself,” I tell him because I am afraid I am going to say some pretty nasty things if we continue to have this conversation.
“I did what I thought was best for Callie, and I'm sorry. I know how it all seems now, Paislee. Don't walk away. Let's talk about this.”
“You never liked me. You were only interested in using me and then discarding me when you were done. I mean nothing to you.”
I try to hold the tears in, but they sting my eyes until I blink. Then the outpour comes. I run into the guest room and lock the door behind me. I begin to pack. I throw all my clothes into the box, not bothering to fold them.
Sebastian knocks on the door, but I do not answer. I throw all my personal belongings into the bag and zip it up. Two hours later, I drag it behind me down the hallway toward the front door.
When I reach the threshold, I feel a little guilty that I'm leaving like this, without saying goodbye to Callie. I feel bad that I allowed her to be caught in the crossfire. I will just have to explain it to her later. Right now, I need to be away from Sebastian.
Rose steps out. She must have heard footsteps outside her room.
Looking a little surprised, she says,
“You're leaving?”
I force a smile and nod.
“Please take care of Callie.”
“What?” She asks, looking even more shocked. “You aren't coming back?”
“I'm afraid not.”
I don't linger, afraid I'll burst into tears if I do.
When I get home, the first thing I do is jump on my couch and pull out my phone. I call the one person who I know will always be there for me at the drop of a hat: Meghan. When she picks up, I finally allow myself to let go.
