God, I want to believe him so badly it physically hurts.
But I can’t.
Not right now.
Not when myentire worldhas just been revealed as a carefully constructed fiction.
“I need space,” I manage. “I need time to think.”
“How much time?” His voice is barely audible.
“I don’t know.” I move to the door and begin to unclasp the bracelet he gave me. “I’m going to stay with Sage for a while.”
“Marley…”
“Please don’t.” I can’t look at him. If I look at him, I’ll see the pain on his face, and I’ll stay, and I can’t stay. “Just… give me some time.” I hand him the bracelet, and I walk out before he can respond.
I pull out my cell to order an Uber. The hallway is too bright, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like angry wasps. I make it to the elevator before the first sob breaks free, and by the time I reach the waiting car, I’m full-on ugly crying.
My hands shake so badly as I open the door of the vehicle.
Damon Blackwell.
He’sDamon-fucking-Blackwell.
The man I fell in love with is a billionaire CEO who’s been playing dress-up as a biker and an Uber driver. The job I was so proud of, the thing that made me feel competent, valued, and worthy was handed to me like a fucking consolation prize.
I slide into the back of the car, the driver looking at me like I have lost my damn mind. But he doesn’t ask questions. He doesn’t put on eighties music to cheer me up. He doesn’t pull into a drive-thru to make me feel better.
He just drives.
And all I can think about is how I wish this driver were like the one I had the last time I was crying in the back of an Uber.
I wish this driver were Nitro.
But I don’t even know who Nitro is because he isDamon-fucking-Blackwell.
I thought we were past secrets.
I thought we had built something on honesty and trust.
But how can we have trust when he’s been lying about his entire identity?
And the job.
God, the job.
I love that job.
I love the work, the people, and the creative freedom.
I love walking into that office every morning and knowing I’m doing something I’m good at.
But it’s tainted now.
Every accomplishment, every win, every moment of pride, it’s all tainted by the knowledge that I didn’t earn it. That it was given to me by a man who was trying to save me.
Poor, pathetic Marley, who can’t take care of herself.
