He nodded like that made sense to him, when none of it made sense to me!
“You going to be in the office on Monday?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I said, finally turning around to face him. “Unless you’re firing me?”
“No,” he said softly. “Never that.”
“Okay. Then Monday. Just like tonight didn’t happen. We’ve done that before. Right?”
His expression shifted again, only this one I recognized. Sadness. E.G. was sad and it was because of me. I hated that. Hated it when I was supposed to be the one who…
I shook my head. Trying to force the crazy thoughts out of it.
“Goodnight, Flowers. Don’t forget to lock up behind me.”
I purposefully waited until he closed the door behind him, before I moved.
Because I was too afraid, I might have asked him to stay.
And I didn’t know what that meant, either.
NINETEEN
GRANT
His capacity for delusion was a tremendous advantage.
The wait was excruciating.I hadn’t slept at all the night before in preparation for this moment. This agonizing, excruciating moment.
I’d even fucking practiced it in the mirror.
“Good morning, Flowers.”
Over and over again, like some juvenile with his first crush.
“Good morning, Flowers,” I said again to my empty office.
No tone, no drama. Nothing that would hint at my inner turmoil. A turmoil that hadn’t subsided since Saturday night. I considered my behavior from every angle, and in the end, there had been only one conclusion.
I’d behaved like an unmitigated ass.
It wasn’t Flowers’ fault I preferred the numbness. It wasn’t her fault that there were suddenly all these cracks in the walls I’d built around myself.
It certainlywasher fault for the cracks in the first place. I’d let my guard down, yes, but she’d been the one to hammer away at the stone.
M&M machines.
Hot dog restrictions.
Couch songs.
All of it probably some elaborate ruse to make me smile again. To make me feel again. To make me…live again.
I didn’t want to live again. I’d done that. I’d lost everything that mattered and I’d nearly been crushed to death by the weight of my grief. In what universe did I want to do that again?
Care about someone? The thought was disgusting.
Not that I was thinking about Flowers as some kind of romantic partner.
