He sighed again. “Well…good luck.”
So, this conversation wasn’t compassionate at all. It was just to scare me. “You too, Mr. Kline.” I opened the door and got out of the car, carrying my box of things down the street. When I made it to the corner and crossed, the tears started.
And I sobbed the whole way home.
Thirteen
Deacon
Valerie gave me the cold shoulder after I told her how I felt about Cleo.
As a result, I didn’t get to see Derek.
I texted her a few times and got no response.
Since Derek was in the building and I could get to him if I really needed to, I let it go.
Besides, I was in a dark place anyway.
I hadn’t been this pissed off in a long time, not since Valerie wouldn’t let me see Derek after I moved. I’d screamed at her over the phone, overwhelmed by the bullshit. Now I felt that way…but a million times worse.
I focused on my research and spent the week at the hospital doing my patient care.
I brought my own lunch—because I wouldn’t ask Cleo for a damn thing.
Like I asked, Matt handled everything for me. He took care of my groceries and dry cleaning, picking up where Cleo left off like she’d given him a detailed explanation of every little item I needed.
And I didn’t see him often either. He usually took care of everything before I came home. I was working late hours, so that wasn’t surprising.
I sat at the desk on the cancer ward, all my notes around me while the patient charts were open on my computers.
Dr. Hawthorne pulled up a chair on wheels and took a seat, wearing light blue scrubs with her hair pulled back. “Guess what?” She placed the papers in front of me, lab results that had just come back. After the charity dinner, she’d acted like nothing awkward had happened, returning to professionalism. If she had been hitting on me, she didn’t admit it.
I grabbed the papers and flipped through them. “Is this from today?”
“A couple hours ago.”
I checked the numbers twice. “This is great…”
“I know. My patient’s numbers have dropped incredibly. Cholesterol is down, so the treatment is reducing the chronic inflammation in the body. I’m going to give him another dose and see if these numbers get even better.”
These were the moments I lived for—when we actually made a difference. But I wasn’t as excited as I usually was because there was so much shit going on in my personal life.
Dr. Hawthorne must have gotten to know me well enough over the last few weeks to recognize my moods, to know something was wrong. “Everything alright, Deacon? You seem a bit…distracted.” Since my reaction wasn’t that big, maybe it was a dead giveaway.
“I’ve just…got some stuff going on.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“No.” I wished I had someone to talk to about this. Cleo was my person, but I couldn’t talk to her. She gave me space like I’d asked, didn’t text me at all, even though we hadn’t spoken in over a week. “I’m having relationship problems…”
She nodded slowly. “With Cleo?”
I turned to her, surprised by her accurate guess.
She sighed loudly. “I’m really sorry about that whole thing. If I’d known—”
“Please don’t apologize.” I was embarrassed we were having this conversation at all because of Cleo’s stupidity.
“Well, if these problems are caused by that night—”
“They aren’t. I just found out some stuff about her…and I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
She was quiet for a while, like she didn’t know what to say. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, you have my number. I’m not a relationship guru or anything, but I am a woman and I do share your intellect. I might be able to give you some advice.”
“I basically found out she lied to me…about some serious stuff.” I didn’t know why I was talking to her. I guess I was just so lonely. I didn’t want to talk to Tucker about it because I already knew what his response would be.
She nodded slowly. “All I know is trust is pretty important in a relationship. And if it’s not there, nothing is there.”
Tucker texted me. Hey, favorite brother in the entire world. I’ve got a favor to ask.
I was in the back seat of the car on my way home from work. I’m your only brother.
Therefore, you’re my favorite.
What do you want? It’d been almost two weeks since Cleo and I had parted ways. Time passed quickly because I focused on work so much. But it also passed slowly because I was angry, sad, miserable…and everything in between.
Can I use your beach house this weekend? He sent a grinning face emoji.
I’d probably never use it again, so I didn’t give a damn. Yes. The place was haunted by Cleo’s ghost, by the happy weekend we’d had there, the two of us…in love. I wasn’t sure if I could go to the cabin either, not for a long time. It was supposed to be a special place for Derek and me…but she somehow became a part of that.
Great. Can I come by and get the key? Or can Cleo drop it off?
Come and get it. If I sent Matt, it might raise questions I didn’t want to answer.
Be there in thirty minutes.
When I arrived at the building, I headed straight to the elevator, never looking at the office in the rear because I didn’t want to see Cleo at all. It didn’t matter how hard she’d cried in my condo. I was still so fucking pissed off that I couldn’t see straight. She lied to me, and she made me look like a fucking idiot.
I stepped inside my condo and barely had time to change before Tucker’s knock sounded.
“It’s open.” I went to the fridge and grabbed a beer.
“What’s up?” He shut the door behind him and spotted the key on the table right away. He brought it to his lips and kissed it. “Pria and I had such a good time last time. I’d tell you why it was so good, but you’d probably tell me to shut up.”
I walked into the living room with my beer in hand, wearing my sweatpants and a t-shirt. “Have a good time.”
“Why don’t the two of you come with us? It’ll be fun.”
I wasn’t going anywhere with Cleo. “Maybe another time.” I moved to the couch and took a seat with the bottle held in my grasp.
Tucker slipped the key into his pocket. “You want to watch the game or something?”
“I’ve got a lot of work to do.” It was a paradox. I was lonely, but I didn’t want to be around anyone, not even family. I didn’t even miss Derek as much as I usually did. He was hardly on my mind at all, actually.
Tucker studied me, like he spotted something out of place. “Everything alright, man?”
“Yeah. Just got a lot going on at work.” I really didn’t want to talk about the real reason I was upset, so I lied.
Tucker didn’t leave. “You want to talk about it?”
“No.” My response came out harsher than I meant for it to.
Tucker crossed his arms over his chest, his playful attitude gone, and now he was deadly serious. “Okay, you’re worrying me.”
“Why?” I asked. “I’m just sitting here.”
“Yeah, but…” He shook his head. “You look different. You look…terrible.”
“Thanks, asshole.” I took another drink.
Tucker sat in the armchair.
I groaned in annoyance. “Tucker, I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to,” I snapped. “Isn’t that enough reason?” I lifted my chin and gave him a cold stare.
Tucker’s eyes shifted back and forth slightly as he looked into my gaze, like he was truly uneasy with the situation. “Something happen with Cleo?”
“No.”
“Derek?”
“No.”
“Valerie—”
“Just get the fuck out, Tucker.” I got off the couch and walked away, moving to the dining table where I’d
left my stuff.
Tucker didn’t make a move to leave. He didn’t say anything either.
I hoped he would just walk out and leave me in peace. I pulled out my laptop and paperwork and set it up next to my beer.
Tucker’s footsteps started, coming behind me.
Goddammit.
He pulled out the chair at the other head of the table and sat down. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
I sighed.
“I’m serious. I’m worried.”
I fell into the chair and opened my laptop and ignored him.
He just sat there, like he had all the time in the world.
After twenty minutes, my gaze flicked to him.
“You think I’m bluffing?”
I shut my laptop. “Cleo really pissed me off.”
“I’m sure whatever she did, she had good intentions—”
“She fucked some douchebag in the building, lied to me about it, made me look like a fucking imbecile, got jealous over a colleague of mine when she’s the one with skeletons in her closet. She had an affair with a married man, after making a big fucking deal about our relationship needing to be a secret. She has this whole other identity she didn’t tell me about.”
Tucker was so shocked that he didn’t say anything. His eyes were wide, and they stayed that way for a long time.
“So yeah, I look like shit because I feel like shit. She asked me to trust her, asked me to leave the past where it belonged and be in a relationship with her. Well, I did my part. She didn’t.” I took another drink of my beer and set it down harder than I meant to, making it thud loudly and almost shatter.
“Jesus…that’s a lot of information to get in a couple of seconds.” He leaned forward, rubbing his fingers across his jawline. “When did all of this happen?”
“About two weeks ago.”
“And you’re still pissed off…”
“Of course, I’m still fucking pissed off.”
Tucker was never quiet for more than a few seconds, but he was quiet for a long time, like he couldn’t believe everything I’d just said. “So, she cheated on you? I…I just can’t see her doing that.”
“No.” I explained the story to him, talking about it for the first time since it happened, and it pissed me off all over again. Time apart should have dulled my rage and made me sane again, but it didn’t.
“Oh man…” Tucker was quiet again.
“I feel fucking stupid. I feel fucking betrayed. I feel… I don’t even see her the same way.”
Instead of getting angry with Cleo for what she did, he seemed lifeless. “Do you believe her? That she didn’t know he was married?”
I shrugged.
“And Jake said they slept together that one night, but she says it didn’t happen?”
“Yeah…a lot of he said, she said bullshit. The reason I fell for her was because I thought that kind of bullshit wasn’t attached to her price. But she’s just like Valerie…”
“I wouldn’t say that, man.”
“She had plenty of time to tell me all this herself, and it would have made a big difference. But she didn’t. She didn’t give me all of her. This relationship has been one-sided since the beginning. I wasn’t with anyone for months before we got together…and she runs off with some jackass the second I turn her down?” I shook my head. “I thought we had more than that.”
“Deacon?”
I stared at him.
“I admit all of this is shitty, but maybe you should give her—”
“When Valerie first told me, I didn’t believe it. I said I had to talk to Cleo first because I thought she would straighten everything out. But it was all true.”
“What about when she said she didn’t know he was married? Do you believe her?”
“She lied to me about other things. Why should I believe her?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s difficult. She doesn’t strike me as someone who would sleep with a married man, but also she doesn’t strike me as someone who would sleep with a client, so I don’t know…”
I stared at the bottle, seeing the emptiness. “I believe her…”
Tucker watched me. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “Maybe that’s stupid…but I do.”
“And what about when she hooked up with him again? You believe she didn’t sleep with him?”
I didn’t want to picture her with anyone else. Whether they kissed or fucked, the action was just as painful. “Yes.”
“So…you do trust her.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, Tucker… I really don’t.”
“Does that mean it’s over?” he whispered.
“I told her I needed space.”
“But you’re still just as pissed off now as you were then.”
“Yeah…” I had a feeling that wouldn’t change.
Tucker didn’t try to convince me to take her back. He didn’t inject his opinions into anything, understanding this was a volatile situation. “How do you think she’s doing?”
“I really don’t know.”
“You want me to go check on her?”
“No. Stay out of it, Tucker. This is between us—not you.” I wasn’t even sure if there was an us anymore.
Tucker looked sad, devastated. “I’m really sorry about all of this, Deacon. I know you’re in a lot of pain.”
I stared at the bottle, unable to meet his gaze. “It was too soon for me to be in a relationship again. I should have waited longer…or not bothered at all.” I released the bottle and leaned back against the chair, my eyes turning to the window.
“I know it’s not my place to say, but I don’t agree with that. I think she had a secret she was scared to share, and she just didn’t handle it well. Everything else about her is real—it’s still real.”
“If it was real, she should have just told me.”
“If she did, would it have changed anything?”
It would have made me uncomfortable, but I would have bounced back after a couple days. “No.”
“Then why should it change anything now?”
Fourteen
Cleo
Three weeks had come and gone.
And Deacon never contacted me.
That was a pretty clear sign he didn’t want me anymore.
It hurt so much.
I hadn’t returned to the building since I was fired, so all the clients knew about my dismissal. That meant Deacon knew—and he still didn’t care.
That hurt most of all, that he didn’t even check on me.
Finding a new job was pretty much impossible. I couldn’t get into the hospitality industry because I didn’t have any experience without including my past job on my resume. If I mentioned it anyway and they called, they would know I got fired for a terrible transgression. They wouldn’t hire me then, so what was the point.
But I was running out of money fast, even when I hardly ate, and since the job prospects were getting worse and worse, I knew I had to move. There would never be a time in the future when I would make enough to live there again, so I found a place in Brooklyn that allowed a month-to-month lease.
I wasn’t sure if I would stay in New York.
With no college education and minimal professional experience, I couldn’t find a job with a high enough income to support me, and that meant I needed to move somewhere with lower living expenses. I still had an aunt in a rural area of Washington, just forty-five minutes outside of Seattle. I could move in with her and start over.
But I moved to Brooklyn first, because of a stupid hope that Deacon would change his mind.
Now I realized that wasn’t going to happen.
My apartment was basically a four-hundred-square-foot room, with a single window, a kitchen and a living room combined into one, and my bed took up most of the space because it was a single room. All the furniture I had bought was expensive and gorgeous, and I’d put it in storage in the hope I could pull it out again someday.
But now I knew I’d
have to sell it.
I’d have to sell everything so I could move back to the West Coast and start over.
As a thirty-year-old woman.
Sometimes I couldn’t believe this was real, that I’d had the perfect life…and now it was gone. I’d had the perfect man, the perfect job, a little boy I loved like my own, when I wasn’t even his stepmother. I had coworkers I adored, clients I cared about, a legacy I was proud of.
But it was like it had never happened.
Now, I had no one…at all.
Fifteen
Deacon
It’d been almost a month since the shit hit the fan.
Valerie was still being difficult by not responding to my messages. She’d reverted back to her old ways, keeping Derek from me as punishment. But since this crime was worse than any other I’d ever committed, the punishment would be the most severe.
But I couldn’t be patient anymore.
I took the elevator to her floor and pounded my fist against the door.
Her heels were audible on the other side. She stopped when she looked through the peephole.
“We can’t do this forever, Valerie.” I hadn’t heard about my son’s first month of school because of this drama. I wasn’t myself because I was still upset, but I couldn’t continue to miss these precious moments of his life.
She unlocked the bolt and opened the door, looking at me as if she despised me.
“I want to see Derek.”
She opened the door wider and let me inside.
I moved into the living room, relieved she didn’t put up a fight in the hallway so the other residents could hear us. “Where is he?”
“In his room.” She shut the door and looked at me, her arms across her chest.
I felt her hostility and knew it needed to be tamped down. “I know you’re upset with me, but don’t take it out on Derek.”
“I’m not taking it out on him. I’m taking it out on you.”
“And that affects our son, so stop it.”
She shook her head as she stared me down. “I can’t believe you fell for a piece of trash like her—let alone, the help. Really?”
The Man Who Has No Love (Soulless Book 3) Page 15