“It was him that did this to you, not me.”
I followed her desperately. “Yes, he was the monster, butyouposted that picture. I wasn’t certain what happened until I saw it.”
She shrugged, hand on the door to the corridor. “I did you a favour then, didn’t I? I opened your eyes to what he was like.”She looked over her shoulder to see me standing there, mouth hanging open.
A favour? Being in the dark, staying his friend, second guessing myself — and she thought she’d done me afavour?
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, tension leaving her body. “I’m sorry for what he did to you, but I, again, am not responsible for your pain. I have to look out for my child.”
And I let her go, feeling like I might collapse to the floor. I rested my head against the cold, tiled wall and breathed, remembering Nix’s voice counting up to ten and back down again. Remembering that I had done my bit.
I didn’t have to stay.
I checked myself over in the mirror, untucked my hair from behind my ear and left.
Chapter 33
Nix and I got home to our apartment in Chelsea before dinner. When buying our home, he’d picked somewhere that had an underground garage with a hidden entry that made our lives far more private.
Never had we expected us to need it for my publicity.
The drive back was excruciating. The video—the video—I had to tell Nix about it.
He spent our drive showing me the positive articles from the trial—positive for me, at least. The main headline was the scandal that SamanthaGarvsadmitted to leaking the picture. My eyes narrowed in surprise, and my head inched back.
How could he be so positive when he had just missed the race that meant he couldn’t win the championship? As the last leg of races were all in America, we wouldn’t be able to get to Texas in good time for Nix to practice and qualify. He’d missed too many points and Frank was storming ahead.
He’d given up the championship for me.
This man who I’d thought was too arrogant and selfish to care about anything else.
And now I felt sick with guilt too.
For the journey, my mind kept racing through what might be in the video. The picture was bad enough. I’d never seen theoriginal; half of my body was blurred.
But it wouldn’t be good.
“There’s a video,” I blurted the second he put his keys on the entry table.
He turned, half an arm out of his suit jacket. “A video of what?”
“That night,” I said and kicked off my heels before nudging them to stand side by side with my feet. “Vinnyrecorded it. Samantha took a still of it.”
The shoes weren’t symmetrical, so I nudged them further, needing the pointed toes to face straight, an inch from the skirting board.
He didn’t speak, though I could feel the anger radiating off of him.
I kept on shuffling the shoes forward with my toe.
“Want me to call Trina?” Nix asked, brushing my hair off my shoulder, avoiding my skin. He never touched my skin when we discussedVinny.
And I hated it. I hated that he felt I didn’t want him, as if I might think he was similar.
Why wouldn’t they go straight? I toppled one shoe over and groaned at my failure.
Nix bent to stand it up again and placed it perfectly. He looked up at me, crouched down at my side and then turned it so it was a centimetre off.
Only when I shoved it to the correct position and was no longer glaring down did he stand again.
