“Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
We hung up, and I tossed my phone aside. In the silence of the room, left with my own thoughts, doubts crept in, and I had to wonder…
Would I really be okay?
Or would this cavernous hole, I never knew existed until Lucian Daire pointed it out, ever go away?
CHAPTER 19
LUCIAN
The clock ticked like a drumming countdown as I sat in the meeting room, watching the door, waiting for Aspen to walk through. My pulse thrummed an anxious beat, almost as fast as my bouncing leg under the table. Anticipation over discovering how she’d act around me electrified my nerves until I couldn’t sit still.
Would I get the Aspen who flooded me with her emotions at the club, or would I get the one who ran away and ignored every message and call over the past two agonizing weeks?
Neither option settled comfortably, like a too-tight shirt that twisted and pulled.
However, the memory of coming home to an empty apartment reignited the anger that had consumed me.
After talking to Corbin and Rose, their words had crept past my mountainous walls, and I’d headed home with an inkling of hope—only to find her gone. That hope vanished to ash under a fiery disappointment. My friends had built me up, making me believe I could face her and admit that what we had might be more than we had set out to have. Not love. Every time that word crept into my thoughts, my chest twisted until I struggled to breathe.
But I’d walked in, and embarrassment heated me from the inside out, reminding me too much of what Daria had made me feel. I’d pushed past my boundaries for her—built myself up to face her—just to have everything ripped out from under me. I became self-righteous, justifying my earlier reactions, resolidifying my walls with the affirmation that if she’d meant everything she’d said, she wouldn’t have abandoned me.
Lying in bed, hoping to hear the slam of the front door had left me unable to completely deny any feelings of hurt—which only led to more defensiveness.
I’d gone to the club the next day, determined to wipe away any remnants of wounded pride. Instead of the oblivion I searched for, I found Rose standing in the hallway, lips pursed, brow raised, arms crossed, and foot tapping.
“What are you doing here? Alone? Is Aspen coming to meet you later?”
“No,” I grumbled, matching her glare with one of my own.
“Did you not talk to her last night?”
“No.”
She huffed. “And why not?”
I took two steps closer, my lip curling in a snarl. “Because she fucking left, and I don’t know where she went.”
If I expected sympathy, I was disappointed. “You poor baby,” she cooed sarcastically. “Maybe instead of throwing a tantrum, you should find out.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have to hunt down the woman who claimed to caresoooomuch about me and then ran at the first bump in the road.”
This time, her expression did soften—barely.“I get it, Lucian. You opened yourself up to the possibility of more, and it didn’t work out. But it was one moment. While you opened your barrier an inch, she flew her doors wide open. Put yourself in her shoes.”
My shoulders fell, and she closed the gap, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“It’s okay to be vulnerable when you care about someone. Yes, sometimes you’ll get hurt, but for the most part, it’s worth it.” Her hand slid down my arm to my hand and squeezed. “Did you call or message her?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“Jesus Christ.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, quit being a dumbass and reach out to her.”
“I will.”
“Now,” she demanded.
