CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Mina
The house Leo booked out for our two-day stay is straight from a modern architecture magazine. It’s all-white everything: white marble kitchen, floors, walls, the couch cushions are white, and even all the bed linen is devoid of any color. The only non-white is the glass, and the silver hardware—save for the two gray throw blankets in the living room.
There’s nothing warm or homey about this two-story house. It’s too clinical. But I suppose it doesn’t entirely matter how the décor makes me feel when I can already breathe a little easier from the miles we put between us and the things we’re running from.
Leo makes his second trip to the rental car and comes back in with all of our things—namely, the several bags of snacks we bought on the way here from the airport.
He sets everything on the kitchen counter while arguing with his agent on the other line. No one’s happy that he changed his flight to an early morning one and skipped out on going infor exit meetings, medical checkups, and some media work. But I understand his refusal to have any further interaction with people who aren’t on his side.
We’re in the same boat, except my avoidance is fueled by cowardice.
I snuck out of the house before either of my parents woke up, then texted Mom that I was moving out, and that I’d be away for a couple of days. She left my message on read.
A quick check of my texts tells me my blackmailer hasn’t responded either. Maybe I just need to wait a couple more days for the peace of mind to hit me that I’m finally safe from him. That he’sgone.
Until then, I need to be more in the moment.
The cold tile floor chills my sock-clad feet as I check out the ranch slider that leads into the backyard. There’s nothing special about it, but the fresh air helps my nerves. I jolt when arms wrap around my waist from behind and Leo presses a kiss to the top of my head.
Butterflies swoop in my stomach. He makes it seem so easy to love me.
“What do you think about moving here?” I’ve never heard him so at ease before. Even the arms wrapped around me are relaxed, as if this were a random morning, and our biggest concern in life is what we’re having for dinner.
I tell myself this is a glimpse into our future.
“To Chicago?” I arch a brow.
“Why not?”
I turn around in his grip to look up at him, and I’m momentarily disarmed by his smile. “Is your agent talking with the team here?”
He nods, eyes dancing over my face like he’s trying to memorize the sight of me. “I’d still be reasonably close to Sabrina.”
The mention of her name has me tensing. “Do you think she’ll hate me once I tell her I’m not who she thinks I am?” I’m not sure what I’m feeling. Is it... shame? Guilt?
“You’re the same person she knows.”
I grimace. I feel like both the Duvals fell for a liar, but I was always still me in a way. “I told her a different name.”
“Nickname,” he amends, even though he’s in the doghouse too right now for not telling her that he has a girlfriend.
I snort. “I made an entire social media persona and got into fucking influencing just to befriend her.”
“You did the same for me.”
“I don’t think that makes it better.”
He shrugs. “You don’t need to keep lying to her. Just tell her you’re an author, and you haven’t told her about it for safety and anonymity. You don’t exactly go around telling people what you really do for a living generally.”
Look, he’s got a point. It’s not exactly a lie, but it sure as shit isn’t the full truth—and telling her the full truth sounds like a terrible idea. Either way, since it seems like I’m happily stuck with Leo, I need to mend the bridge I made with his sister, and that starts with apologizing for ghosting her ever since my shit was stolen.
I just haven’t been in the right headspace to talk to her properly. Or anyone but Leo, really.
“We both need to tell her the truth,” I say. The lies to Sabrina have piled too high.
“She’s going to be so pissed.”
