The idea of Cora being with someone else twists painfully in my stomach, acid flaring up my esophagus, squeezing poison into my heart.
“She deserves honesty, you moron. She deserves a choice. You took that from her. And now you’re still taking it—by deciding you’re unworthy on her behalf.”
I drag a hand down my face. “What do you want me to do? Show up at her door with flowers and say sorry I emotionally waterboarded you, but I’m madly in love?”
Roxy rolls her eyes so hard, I swear they echo. “Jesus Christ, yes. Start there. At least you’d be trying.”
I stare at the ceiling. “She has the right to hate me.”
“Maybe,” she says. “But she also had a right to know the truth before she fell for you. And now she has a right to know you didn’t stop falling just because she walked away.”
My chest tightens, and I swallow, hard. “What if I go, and she doesn’t even open the door?”
Roxy shrugs. “Then you wait. Or you write her a damn letter. Or you camp outside with a sign like a rom-com idiot. But you don’t give up. One of the things I always admired about you is that unapologetic drive to win.”
She sits beside me, her voice softening. “You love her, Xander. For once in your perfect fucking life—don’t strategize or buy or talk your way around it. Just love her. Be messy, honest, and vulnerable.”
She leans her head on my shoulder, but then slides away. “And take a shower. You smell of despair and whiskey.”
“She doesn’t believe in my love any more, Roxy.”
“Then make her believe. Look, you’ve been hoping for closure for two months now. I think you should try again.”
For the first time in days, I straighten up. Really sit up.
Because maybe Roxy is right.
Maybe I stopped fighting too soon.
Maybe the next move isn’t about control or pride or punishment.
Maybe it’s just about Cora.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but a glimmer of purpose pushes me up. I walk to the door.
“Where are you going?” Roxy follows me.
“To feed my cats.”
“Jesus, you kept her cats.”
“Fuck you,” I snarl.
Because, yeah, as unhinged as that is, I refused to give Pitt and Clooney up. They are not even my cats, but I kept them… hoping she would keep coming for them.
I guess the fact that she gave up after a few frustrating tries is testament to how much she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. She gave up her cats.
And me? I fucking used her cats like a bargaining chip.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Pitt protests loudly as I snap the carrier’s door shut. Clooney gives me an evil eye, but then collapses into a ball, yawning.
I load them both into my Lambo, hoping the engine doesn’t give up based on my neglect. Pitt continues to mew and get on my nerves the whole ride to Cormac’s residence.
“I know, dude, but you’re going back to your mommy, so stop bitching.”
I pull into the driveway, kill the engine, and turn tolook at the two heads glaring at me from behind the barred doors.
