Page 59 of Illusory

Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off before changing into the clothes Dominic had set out on the bathroom counter. Despite the asshole’skind gesture, I was dead set on keeping the ice firmly set around my heart. Because if I was mad at him, then I wouldn’t have to feel the other things I was feeling, like pain and sorrow and rejection, and that was a much easier emotion for me to live with than the alternative ones.

Standing at the mirror, I towel-dried my hair and then twisted it back into a messy French braid, hoping it would finish drying overnight and produce something moderately cute in the morning. I may have felt like absolute garbage on the inside, but that didn’t mean I had to look like it on the outside too.

Throwing one last glance at myself in the mirror, I opened the bathroom door and then paused in the doorway. My gaze landed heavy on Dominic, surprised to find him still in my room, sitting leisurely in the leather armchair with a drink in his hand like he planned on sticking around for a while.

The surprise, however, was short-lived and quickly melted away only to leave annoyance in its place. “Why are you still here?” I bit out, instantly angered by the sight of him. I’d made so much progress in the bathroom with all my healthy self-talk and newfound resolve, and now here he was ruining the whole thing.

“I had Isa prepare you something to eat,” he said, gesturing to the plate on my nightstand as he brought his tumbler up to his lips and took a small sip, his intense eyes never leaving mine. “Steak and vegetables, grilled just the way you like them.”

I scoffed, unimpressed with his merry-go-round of bullshit. If he thought he was going to smooth things over with a measly plate of food, he had another thing coming. “How noble of you to compel her to do that for me. Let me run and see if I can find you a medal of honor somewhere,” I said caustically as I marched over to my bed without bothering tolook at him or the plate of food.

“Angel—”

“Save it, Dominic,” I cut in before he could get another syllable out. “I’m not in the mood for your games tonight, or your stupid food, so you can just take them both with you on your way out,” I informed as I yanked the comforter back and then climbed into my bed, ready to fall into a coma and sleep this entire dreadful day away.

“You cannot properly heal if you don’t eat.”

“Really? Gosh, I had no idea,” I said with mock-surprise as I turned my back to him and then yanked the comforter up over my head. “Thank you for this brand-new information, Osensei.”

He snorted into his glass, probably mid-sip, and I imagined him spilling his drink all over himself and ruining his precious hand-stitched shirt, and I smirked to myself.

Served him right.

“Close the lights on your way out,” I called out from under the blanket, fully satisfied with myself.

Silence pushed back at me before the sound of protesting leather filled the room and made my stomach coil with unexpected disappointment. I listened to his footfalls retreating as he walked over to the door and flicked off the light switch. My heart thrashed uncomfortably in my chest as I waited for him to open the door and leave, but all I heard was the sound of the lock clinking loudly, followed by his footsteps circling back around.

Was he still in my room?

The answer came in the form of the leather squawking again as he apparently retook his seat in the chair.

Confused, I pulled the comforter down from over my head and glanced over at the armchair. Dominic stared back at me, his face slightly illuminated from the small slit in the curtainsas he brought his drink up to his lips and took a slow and deliberate sip.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, more curious than angry.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he answered calmly as he set the glass down on the armrest and circled the rim of the glass with his finger, his eyes boring into mine.

“It looks like you’re still here.”

“That’s a very astute observation, angel.”

I pushed up on my elbows, my cheeks already flaming with heat. And not the good kind of heat. “Whyare you still here, Dominic?” I was fairly certain I’d made it clear that I wanted him out of my room. Not to mention, he couldn’t seem to get out of here fast enough forty minutes ago. So why the sudden holdup?

“I’m simply trying to enjoy my Scotch,” he answered and then raised his glass to me as if toasting to it.

“Well, can you go enjoy your Scotch somewhere else?”

“No.”

I gaped back at him. Was he serious right now?

It was bad enough that I had to live with the humiliation of his blatant rejection without him hanging around here to rub it in my face.

“Get the hell out of my room!” I shouted and then sucked in a sobering breath to reign myself back in. The last thing I needed was Tessa or Gabriel running in here to check on me. “I’m serious, Dominic. I’m not going to say it again,” I bit out through clenched teeth.

“You can say it as many times as you wish, angel. I’m not going anywhere.” He shifted in the chair as if to make himself more comfortable. “You might as well make peace with it and go to sleep.”

“Go to sleep?” I repeated it like he’d just suggested Iperform a striptease for the neighborhood elders. “And what? You’re just going to sit there and watch me sleep all night?”

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