A growl comes from behind me before Mika grips my elbow and slams me against his chest.
“The show is over,” he grits out and drags me toward his office.
The elevator doors slide shut behind us with finality, fortifying me. The ride brims with tension, the intensity suffocating.
His chest ripples with his ragged breathing, his shirt straining with the tightness of his muscles.
Playing cool, I appear way more composed than I feel as I step out of the elevator.
“What the fuck was that?” he roars to my back.
I sigh, my shoulders drooping. In his presence, my rebellion gives way to hurt.
“You haven’t visited me in one fucking week.” My voice rings with accusation.
“Stop cussing,” he grumbles, turning to me.
“Or what?” I ask, face-to-face with him. More like eyes to chest.
He drags both palms down his face as if calling for patience.
I poke my finger into his stone chest. “I could have died, and you wouldn’t even have known.”
He rolls his eyes, and I swear I can’t recall him ever doing that. “Stop being dramatic.”
I stick the tip of my nose out, demanding. “Tell me why.”
His features crack with loss of control, and he shouts. “Because it kills me to see you and not have you. Is that a fucking good enough reason for you?”
My mouth opens and closes, taken aback by his display of emotions.
Sulking, I drop onto the couch by the window. Eyeing the people partying without a care while just a few feet above, my world implodes.
“And I expect that guy to live a long life.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, mumbling. “Anything else?”
I look down, unable to bear witnessing the hurt I caused him. “Yes, I want you to stop this unhealthy routine you have.”
“Fine. Anything else?”
I feel my brows furrow. Doubts crawl into my head, weaving a poisonous web. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re eager to get rid of me.”
Only the thought makes me nauseous. Bile rises in my throat, the putrid acid coating my taste buds. I whip my head so fast to him, I get motion sickness.
“Is there someone else?” My voice breaks, emotions overwhelming me.
He throws his head back, inhaling such a deep breath that it’s a wonder he doesn’t deprive the room of oxygen. “Incredible. You drive me insane. And the answer is fucking no.”
He slumps in his office chair, and we watch each other in stilted silence for long minutes. All I want to do is to bridge the rift I caused, but I don’t know how.
“No one else but me?” I ask, tone dipped in vulnerability.
“No one else but you,” he vows.
I palm my chest as if wanting to capture his love for me, and whisper. “Do you really want me to leave?”
He shuts his eyes for a second. “That’s your decision.”
