She takes several steps backwards, her eyes wide and pupils blown. The bitter scent of burnt oranges is filling my office, stronger than any scent I’ve ever gotten from her before. “I’m sorry, I really am. But I can’t. I wish I could.”
She backs up until she reaches the door, and she turns to open it.
A bone-deep weariness crashes over me. How many times are we going to do this song and dance? At what point am I just being a masochist?
“If you walk out that door, this is done. For real. I can’t do this anymore,” I say quietly and even I can hear the pain in my voice.
I see her shoulders stiffen, and she pauses. I think for a moment she’s going to come sit back down, but then she opens the door and steps out of my office, closing it behind her.
I sit in the quiet of my office, listening to the sound of her heels carrying her down the empty hall and then thedingof the elevator. When I don’t hear her anymore, I accept it for what it is.
Ava, for whatever personal demons she’s fighting, has closed the door on us.
I shut my eyes and bury my head in my hands, trying to breathe and just feel whatever emotions happen. There’s hurt, so much fucking hurt, but a whole lot of sadness too. With a growl of anger, I snatch up a coffee cup from the small table near the couch and launch it against the wall, the sharp sound of shattering china echoing through my office. It takes a considerable amount of restraint not to take one of the chairs near me and beat it into splinters against my desk.
I stand, hands shaking, and grab my shirt, hastily buttoning it back up. I can’t stay in this room any longer without going insane. I can still smell her everywhere. My alpha rages inside of me, pressing me to chase after her and drag her home. But I can’t.
I bypass the elevator, not wanting any more of her scent, and take the stairs down two at a time. I have no destination in mind; I just know I have to get out of here.
Eventually I find myself in Central Park, with very little recollection of the walk there. My head is finally starting to feel clearer, not that I’m feeling particularly better or anything. I find a bench and sit down, staring out at the trees blankly. After a minute, I pull my phone out and scroll to Ava’s contact.
I stare at it, and then before I can change my mind, I block her number. Deleting the contact won’t do any good since I have her number memorized, but at least now she can’t reach out. Any communication we have from here on out will be coordinated between our offices.
My phone rings right as I’m about to put it into my pocket, Marnie’s face flashing across it. “Hello?”
“I was just dusting the crystals, and all of a sudden had the strangest feeling that I needed to call you,” she says. “That’s crazy, right? I mean, I hope you don’t think I’m some weirdo and not wanna talk anymore.”
I give a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. “Uh, no. In fact, maybe I need to come buy some crystals, because that woo-woo shit must have some real magic behind it. I really did need someone to talk to.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks, concern evident in her voice.
“That’s an incredibly long story, and probably not one to be had over the phone when I’m still feeling some kind of way about it. But let’s just say the situationship I’ve been trying to figure out is done.”
“Oh, Mark, I’m sorry. That’s so hard,” she says softly. She pauses briefly. “Well, do you want advice, distraction, or someone to sit with you in the suck for a minute?”
I huff out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “Honestly, probably the last one. There’s not much advice to be given in this situation, and I don’t think I’ll be easily distracted.”
“I can do that,” she says easily. “I’m pretty good at sitting with uncomfortable feelings. Occupational hazard of being around all the vibrations from the crystals.”
I shift on thebench, rolling my shoulders like I can physically loosen the knot in my chest. “I’m in Central Park. I walked here without really realizing I was doing it.”
“Least the weather is nice. Would have really sucked if it was raining or something. Though I guess it would give you the quintessential heartbroken movie moment, standing in the rain looking forlorn.”
I laugh despite myself, and though I had said I didn’t think she could distract me, I find her doing just that. We talk for a few minutes about nothing important. She tells me a story about one of her customers going on a twenty-minute rant about how they are being stalked by one particularly fat pigeon.
“Do you want some company?” she offers. “You’re welcome to come hang out down here at the shop.”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see it. “I don’t think I’m fit to be anyone’s company tonight. But I was already meaning to ask you this before my night blew up. What do you have going on tomorrow night?”
“Same old, same old,” she tells me. “Why?”
“There’s this big, fancy dinner at the mayor’s mansion,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “I was thinking I should introduce you to my best friend, Adam. He’s a reporter and an alpha, and I think you two might hit it off. He’ll be there anyway, so I thought maybe you could come as my plus one. If you don’t feel each other, there’s no pressure. It wouldn’t be a blind date or anything.”
“You mean I have an excuse to wear a fancy evening gown and meet a pre-vetted alpha that probably isn’t a creep? Uh, yes. Count me in,” she says with a laugh.
“Okay. I’ll pick you up around 6:30.”
“Sounds great!”
