Unlocking the apartment, I walk inside. The lights are off, telling me he isn’t home. Since Nova said he’s been staying here, I decide to wait. My eyes scan the place, noticing the crumpled newspaper left on the coffee table, the dirty dishes and glasses in the sink. In the bedroom, the bed is perfectly made as though no one’s slept in it.
Worry sickens me that Nathan isn’t sleeping well. God knows I am not. I miss snuggling with him and falling asleep in his protective embrace.
Sinking on the mattress, I wait for his return. I fidget the entire time. I pace back and forth. I amble to the kitchen to have some water.
The clock chimes nine and Nathan still hasn’t shown up.
Finding my phone, I dial for his office. The receptionist’s polite voice fills my ear.
“Hello, Singhania and Sons’ office. How may I help you?”
“Hi,” I reply. “I’m Arya. Mr. Nathan Singhania’s Publicist. Is he still at the office?”
“No, he left for the day two hours ago.”
My pulse drops. “Oh, okay.”
“Can I take a message?”
“No, thank you,” I say dryly and hang up. Staring at the floor, I wonder if he went to his house tonight. Hastily grabbing my purse, I decide to check there.
In the next five minutes, I’m getting behind the wheel. I finally realize the urgency Nathan must’ve felt the day I was sick because I’m racing and breaking all the traffic signals as well. Every second feels like an eternity until one and a half hours later, I turn onto his street. Another left, and I speed down his circular driveaway.
The porch light is on, signaling he’s home.
I ring the doorbell and rapidly knock on the double doors. I’ll settle down once I see his face and touch him. When I hear heavy footfalls, my pulse races in anticipation.
The door creaks open, bringing me face to face with the man I desperately love.
My gaze drags up his sculpted body encased in black slacks and white button-down sans tie and lands on his face.
Dark circles adorn his eyes. His features ragged. His jaw is unshaven and dark with stubble that make him appear broody.
“Nathan,” I heave, taking a step to put my arms around him when his cold voice stops me dead in my tracks.
“What are you doing here so late?” he demands annoyedly. “Didn’t Radha inform you? I’ve ended our contract. I no longer need your services.”
“W-what…that’s… Nathan,” I struggle to string along a sentence, thrown off-kilter by his standoffishness. “That’s not why I am here.”
“You shouldn’t be here at all.”
“You’re angry, I get it,” I gingerly say. “I just came to-”
“Just because we fucked a bunch of times doesn’t mean you can come to my house anytime you wish,” he cuts me off callously. “I no longer want to see you again.”
I flinch, his words sucker-punching my guts. “N-Nathan.”
“Get off my property, Arya.”
“Why are you behaving like this?” Tears gather in my eyes. Did I push him too far last time? I edge closer to him, pressing my hand to his chest. “I-I’m so-sorry. Please talk-Nathan!”
His fingers curl around my elbow harshly, dragging me off his porch and toward my car. Flinging open the door, he thrust me toward it. “Drive home. Now!”
“No.” I remember my resolve to get answers. He’s not shutting me out. “We’re going to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he roars in my face. His grey eyes are an inky pool of darkness. “We had a fling. It’s over. Don’t ever show your face here again.”
I cry out in heartbreak.
