“I bury myself in work as often as I can so I don’t have to feel anything after what I’ve been through,” he snapped suddenly, the edge in his voice cutting through the air. “So I don’t have toget caught up in emotions I can’t control. It would be nice if you could accept that and respect my?—”
“Boundaries?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not the only person who’s ever lived through hell,” I continued. “You just refuse to see anyone else’s.”
Silence thickened between us.
“So you know what?” I swallowed hard. “Screw you. Screw your boundaries. And screw the time I’ve wasted believing you’d ever become human.”
I stormed off the balcony before he could respond.
Pulling on a bathrobe, I grabbed my dress and stilettos from the night before and left his suite.
By the time I reached the elevator, my hands were shaking.
“Hurry up,” I muttered as the numbers ticked down.
Footsteps echoed behind me.
“Andrea…” His voice was rough now, less controlled.
The doors opened, and I stepped inside.
He followed, hitting the “door open” button before they could close.
“I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Send it in an email,” I said. “I have to go do some work.”
“No.”
Still dripping wet, he stepped fully into the elevator and tilted my chin up, forcing me to look at him.
“I’m sorry.” His words stunned me into silence.
They didn’t sound natural coming from him…
“I truly am,” he said more quietly. “And the answer is ‘yes,’ I do have feelings for you, but I don’t process emotions well. Especially not on days like today.”
“That’s not an excuse…”
“I know.” He sighed. “I know…”
I struggled to find the next words to say.
“Today marks a decade since my best friend since childhood passed away,” he said. “The man was practically my brother—and I’ve never learned how to grieve him without destroying something else in the process — a company, a relationship… myself.”
The elevator beeped its warning.
He stepped onto his floor and extended his hand.
“Are you staying or leaving?”
The elevator doors started to close.
I took his hand.
