Chapter Eighteen
Mia
I weaved my way out of the gala room and into the crowded lobby. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stomach the mayor’s rambling ode to Rushmere’s booming economy.
Searching for the ladies’ room, I shouldered my way past the bar, only stopping to grab a glass of lukewarm Asti. It slipped down like water. I dumped the glass on a windowsill and keptwalking, my body thrumming with a horrid mix of fury and the desperate need to cry.
I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.
But it didn’t seem to matter how loudly I replayed the mantra in my head, I didn’t believe it. Because despite the fact that he was pushing me away more tangibly than he ever had, I couldn’t deny the truth.
I love him.
I hate him.
I love him.
Man, I wassuch a cliché.Andsuch a bloody mess. Luke had barely glanced at me, but just a glance had been enough to have me shaking, crawling out of my own skin, and fleeing the room like a drunk bimbo.
I found the ladies’ room and slipped inside, grateful to find it empty and relatively nice. Guess that explained how Rushmere’s extortionate business rates were spent. Not that I cared. Money came intothe shop and left again with a terrifying turnaround. I’d taken to paying little attention to where it actually went and had gifted my accounts to Gus.
“Cheers, sis. Love you too.”
Guilt threatened the Luke-fuelled meltdown I was teetering on the edge of. Gus had been working round the clock for Luke this week, on top of his futile attempts to keep me out of trouble. I’d left him at homewith a pizza and Netflix, but I knew he’d pick me up the moment I was done.
And I was so bloody done. Done with this night, done with this town, and done breaking my heart over Luke.
Right?
Snorting, I dumped my handbag onto the counter and rummaged through it for my phone. I came up blank, but found my lipstick instead, and I was tipsy enough to think I was winning at life.
Myreflection was less pleasing. With my red-rimmed eyes and smudged makeup, I looked like the walking dead. With a sigh, I set about fixing myself enough that Gus didn’t worry, but it didn’t seem to matter how thick the mask, my misery was plain to see.
Had Luke seen it? Was that why he’d glowered at me with thinly veiled disgust? And could I even blame him when he’d had the week from hell andI was making it all about me?
A prickle of shame lanced my heart. I’d worried about Luke all week, because Iknewhim. When things got tough, he turned inward. Stopped talking. Thinking. Taking care of himself. Years ago we’d been close enough for me to pull him to safety. To my knowledge, there was no one around to do that now. Not his mother or his brother. No one. How did someone becomeso skilled at pushing people away?
The irony of my inner monologue was ridiculous. A crazed chuckle escaped me, and I gave up on trying to make myself presentable. Gus would just have to deal with the fact that I was a high-maintenance sister right now. Or maybe he wouldn’t. I’d always been good at pretending. In that, Luke and I were the same.
The door opened behind me and Luke slippedinto the bathroom.
“This is the ladies’,” I snapped, resisting the urge to press my palm into my chest, like I could push my stampeding heart back in. “If you can’t find the gents’, I suggest you piss outside.”
Luke leaned against the wall like walking sex in his slim-cut grey suit. “I came to see if you were okay.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You legged it out of the room.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you—” He stopped and shook his head. “Whatever. Just answer the question.”
I turned my gaze back to the mirror. “You didn’t ask me one.”
To anyone else, Luke’s expression would be inscrutable, but I recognised the flinty gaze staring down my reflection, his clenched hands. I was irritating him, something we’d often got around by fucking. And perhaps that was the problem—why he’dfound it easier to leave me than talk to me. To tell me how he was feeling, instead of a brutal cut and run that had left nothing but pain and anger in its wake.
Not that he seemed particularly like he wanted to fuck me right now. Throttle me, maybe.
