Page 102 of Solo

He just smirks and shakes his head.

“I’m such a fool,” he says, his voice filled with self-loathing. “You are so good. You had me convinced that you cared for me. And, my God! The act you put on! Tell me, did you somehow make yourself sick on purpose? Or was it just a happy coincidence that I was forced to take care of you? Tell me, Katherine. Tell me all of it. And then tell me what you stood to gain from it. Really. I want to know—what’s worth ruining someone’s life over?”

“I love you!” The words feel like a roar in my mind but they come out sounding more like a squeak. “I would never hurt you. I swear to God, Drew, you’ve got to believe me!”

He looks up at the ceiling, stroking his chin and pretending to consider. “Hmm, now let’s see,” he begins, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You somehow convinced me to sleep with you; to trust you. Then you used me to get to my connections at the New York Conservatory. Then you showed me just how much you care by tipping off a reporter about the consensual relationship that is about to end my career. Oh yes, Miss Brenner. I believe you.”

I start to fight him, but suddenly, I can’t fight anymore. The hatred in his eyes is so much worse than the disdain that used to be there. This man will never believe I haven’t done something to sabotage his life and his career. And I will never forgive myself for allowing him to get close enough to hurt me.

“You’re going to think about this,” I say in a voice barely above a whisper, “and you’re going to realize the mistake you’ve made.”

“Oh, believe me, Miss Brenner, I am well aware of the mistake I’ve made,” he returns in a tone as cold as ice. It robs the breath from my lungs.

I’m not sure how long the tears have been streaming down my face, but I can taste them in my mouth. They accentuate the morning chill as they run down my neck and under my collar, reminding me that I’m not wearing a coat. Again.

“Please,” I repeat in a voice that I can barely hear, “I’m Katherine.”

“No. What you are is a callous, immature little girl who used me to get what she wanted at the expense of my career. Of my life. Were you laughing at me, Katherine?” he asked with a cruel emphasis on my name. “Were you making fun of my grief for my fiancée, Katherine? Were you telling all your little friends how you were screwing around with me, Katherine?”

I shake my head.

“Please!” I beg.

“Go home, Katherine. And then go to hell,” he hisses and slams the door in my face.

I stand, staring at the spot where he just was, shaking with the sobs that are rising from my chest. I ring the bell again and again until it finally just stops ringing. He must have found a way to disconnect it so he wouldn’t have to hear it. I start pounding on the heavy oak door with my fists.

He’s got to hear me. He’s got to listen to me. I bang and bang until blood runs from my knuckles. I don’t know how long has passed when I finally slip to my knees on his doormat, the word “welcome” screaming up at me in its irony. I weep openly, sobbing his name and begging him to open the door.

There’s another temperamental mountain storm set to roll through the area and even as the early sun gives way to clouds, I sit there. I can feel the plummeting temperature around me, but I sit there. I’m still sitting on the floor of his porch when the police cruiser pulls up in the driveway and a middle-aged woman in uniform gets out. She walks up to where I am, shaking with grief and cold.

“Hey there, sweetie,” she says gently as she squats down to my tear-blurred eye level. “It’s freezing out here. Where’s your coat?”

The question makes me sob even harder. The woman’s eyes are filled with compassion, as if she understands exactly what she is looking at: a broken heart.

“Katherine? Is that your name?” she asks. He must have told the dispatcher who I was when he called in the complaint to the police.

I nod dumbly, crying until the hiccups rise from my chest.

“Katherine, you need to go home now, sweetie. You can’t stay here any longer.”

I cry harder and the officer looks down at the ground, as if the answer is written there in front of her. Finally, she meets my eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Katherine, I’m so sorry, but if you don’t go on your own, I’m going to have to bring you into the station and book you on trespassing charges. He wants me to do that, but I think maybe you just need to go home. Do you think you can drive?”

Drew wants to have me arrested? There it is. He really and truly believes that I could do something like this to him. No. There is no coming back from this. Not for him. Not for me. And with that realization, I can finally stand up on my shaky legs. I wipe my tear-stained face and nod my assent to the officer.

“You know what? I’m going to follow you home, okay, honey? I know you’re going—I just want to make sure you get there safely. Okay?”

I nod again and allow her to take my elbow and lead me gently back to the Corolla. In a few minutes I’m headed back down the hill for the last time, my tears falling on the steering wheel just as they did the day he found me in front of his house.

…

Thursday May 11th 8:45 p.m.

D: I’m glad you’ve finally stopped texting and calling. I was about to have my number changed. This is not an invitation to contact me, it’s just a suggestion that we keep things professional tomorrow when you come in for your exam. Making a scene by crying or complaining is only going to make it harder for you. I’m getting on with my life and I suggest you do the same. After tomorrow we’ll never have to see one another again. Please DO NOT respond to this message.

Chapter Forty-Seven