Did I do something?
Did he not want me anymore?
Was he going to withdraw from our agreement?
Why did he go to The Berkshire without me?
What was he doing there?
Did I want to find out?
Did I want answers to any of it?
Fuck yes, I did.
I rolled my shoulders back, raised my chin, and slid my familiar cold, calm, in-control shields in place.
I was Aspen fucking Quinn. I didn’t hide.
LUCIAN
I staredout at the dimly lit room, but didn’t take any of it in.
The couples in various stages of intimacy, the dark furniture, the stage—all of it blurred together under the red lights. I sipped my bourbon and winced. Instead of the smooth, spicy flavors, it coated my tongue like ash.
Everything tasted like shit this week.
Setting the glass aside, I focused on my achievements since putting space between Aspen and myself. I was almost back on track with work—an impressive feat considering how far I’dfallen behind. I hadn’t understood how much I’d neglected my own business until I’d pulled my head out of my ass and forced myself to give it my full attention.
Now, I was getting back to solid ground. I stood on a newly built and reinforced foundation—alone.
To maintain my success, I worked late, either staying at the office or hiding out in mine at home until late at night. But the thought of looking over another spreadsheet or contract made me want to gouge my eyes out. I thought coming here would be the perfect distraction from mundane tasks I used to love, flavorless food, and a persistent ache residing in my chest. Yet there I sat. Seeing nothing. Tasting nothing. Still plagued by a never-ending pressure banding around my lungs.
I’m safe,I reminded myself.I’m focused. Unexposed.
I fell back on the mantra I’d used after Daria, but it didn’t comfort me as it had before.
Either way, I repeated it as I looked around, hoping Rose and Corbin would return and distract me from my apathy.
“Hey, Lucian.”
I winced, hearing the overly saccharine familiar voice, and wished I’d been left to my apathy rather than hear it.
“Emily,” I responded, my tone bored. Ihad nothing against the woman—other than how attached she became in our relationship. But the way she eyed me like a glass of water after months in a desert had me erecting clear boundaries. I didn’t need any extra attention.
Despite my efforts, she sat down too close beside me in the back booth. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I’ve been busy.” I kept my body angled away from her, with my arm resting on the table between us.
“Right.” She huffed a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. “I’m sure wedding planning has kept you busy.”
“I’ve been busier with work than anything,” I corrected, unwilling to even voice the choices I’d made that led to the mistakes at work. I was done losing time to my relationship—I meant, arrangement—with Aspen.
She hummed in understanding and leaned closer, showing off her ample cleavage revealed by her deep-cut top. “How are you?”
“I’m good. You?” I wasn’t an asshole.
“I’m okay,” she answered with a shrug.
