Ivy bit her lip, her fingers on his. He flung them off and unclasped the collar from her neck.
“Gabe!”
“So much for that commitment, Ivy. You couldn’t even respect my privacy.”
“I did it to save you!” Ivy’s eyes flashed with anger, one hand clutching her empty neck. “Do you think I wanted to hurt you?”
“I don’t know! Everyone else I have loved has, so why not you?”
“Because I never have!”
He turned from her, shaking his head.
“There isn’t a fucking thing you can say to make this right. What part ofI need to workdidn’t you understand?”
“I know you do, but it didn’t have to be this place. I told you what I overheard.”
“And I told you, people talk, people lie. You should know. That’s what you do for a living.”
“That’s all you think I do.” Ivy sobbed.
Gabe scoffed, wincing, grabbing the wall as his migraine took hold.
“You need the pills. I’ll get them.”
He shook a finger at her. “No, Ivy. Don’t do me anymorefavours. I’m spending a few nights at Nick’s. I don’t want to see you here when I get back.”
“What do you mean…Gabe.” She placed her hand in between his shoulder blades.
He shook her off, stepping out of the bathroom. “I mean it, Ivy. I can’t be around you right now.”
“Gabe! You can’t throw away everything we’ve been through. This is just a disagreement.”
“You’re the one who threw everything away, Ivy, when you did exactly what I told you not to. When you didn’t respect what I wanted.”
“We live here together. We share a home, a life.”
He shook his head, leaning on the wall, closing his eyes against the pounding in his skull, against the pain in her voice.
“I can’t live with someone who doesn’t respect me. I don’t want to see you, Ivy. Be gone when I get back.”
“Gabe, you can’t do this.”
“Yes, I can. You showed me how important trust is to you, Ivy when you broke mine. Just get out before I come back.”
Clutching his head, he grabbed his bag from the front door and slammed it on the way out. His heart shattered. Damn her for ruining it all.
PART TWO APRIL - AFTER
CHAPTER EIGHT – IVY
“Bereadythistime,Ivy!”
Ivy grabbed the handrail and gripped her cellphone tightly in her other hand. She wanted to be anywhere else but here, seventy metres above the ground, on a suspension bridge. Her heart thundered in her chest.
She clicked a few photos of influencer and socialite Bethany Wilder, posing with the ruby red lipstick that had glitter, or “micro diamonds” as the product info the company sent over-claimed, that was so sparkly it almost glowed on its own.
A family of four and two elderly people walked by her, muttering something about being in their way, and Ivy blushed. They were right. But Bethany tended not to care about such trivialities. She needed the shot for her social media account.
