“Look, Blake, I'll apologize if that’s what you want me to do. I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I was just protecting Ari.”
“Maybe you should apologize to Ari,” Emmy calls from the background. “He sounded hot.”
The phone gets muffled, and I hear Blake’s low timbre admonishing his assistant, but can’t make out the words.
“Will, I’m going to let you go now. But for the love of a single moment of peace, do you think you could rein it in a little?”
“I’ll try,” I say, trying to force some humor into my voice even though I feel sick. The tight smile on my face is more of a grimace, and I’m sure they can probably hear that too.
Blake hangs up, and as soon as I turn around, any semblance of a smile falls from my face immediately.
Ari is standing just outside the open patio door, arms crossed tight over the crop top he was wearing last night. His face is drawn, a cross between astonishment and horror pulling all his features down. He doesn’t look at me directly for several long moments, but when he finally meets my eyes, I see more than the menacing glare of rage staring back at me. I see heartbreak. And that is so much worse.
“How could you?”
TEN
ARI
The door slams shut behind me, only to fly open again with just as much force when Will follows me inside.
I want to tell him not to follow me, but if I open my mouth right now, I’ll either scream or beg, and I refuse to give him either right now. It’s all I can do to keep my breaths steady as I storm to the bedroom.
“Slow down, Ari. Let me explain?—”
I don’t slow down or give him even a second of my attention so he can try to rationalize his behavior. I go straight to the bedroom and yank my suitcase from the corner of the closet. My hands are shaking as I flip it open on the bed.
Will stops short. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I say, expending far too much energy keeping my voice level. It’s a seething kind of calm. The calm before the storm. Riding a dangerous edge right before everything shatters and I lose my ever-loving shit kind of calm.
“Why are you packing?”
A dark laugh threatens the edge of my sanity as I start pulling clothes from the drawers. Shirts. Jeans. Whatever my hands land on first. I don’t fold anything. I just shove it in.
“I’m leaving.”
That finally gets him.
“What do you mean, leaving? Ari. Where do you think you’re going?”
I turn on him then, unable to stop myself.Is he fucking serious?“Where do IthinkI’m going? Do you even hear yourself?”
He blinks rapidly, the color in his face draining. “I—I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… Where are you going?” He asks, calmer this time.
“I’m going to New York. Alone.”
“What?”
“I’m done, Will. I can’t—” I gesture vaguely between us, my chest tight, my throat burning. “I can’t do this anymore.”
He gapes, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, eyes wide with disbelief. Did he really think I would continue to let his shit slide? Does he not see how much he’s hurting me?
“H—How long?” He stutters. His eyes start a rapid-fire back-and-forth motion that I recognize. He thinks he might be able to negotiate his way out of this.
I pause, then shrug, because I honestly don’t know. “Until Jesse’s ready for whatever comes next, I guess. Until I can breathe again. I need to breathe, Will.”
“You need space?”
