Page 169 of Delicate Storm

When I’m done, I dance around my apartment, working to increase my serotonin, shaking the darkness out of my mind until I’m ready to face the world. I need fresh air and a run to clear my head.

I am a strong, beautiful, confident woman. I made a mistake but I will get through it. It’s only a matter of time before it all blows over. I asked Dad to pause his investigation, for now, and I told Christian’s mom that I would keep my mouth shut and begged her not to release those specific images. I just have to hope she believes me. For Easton’s sake.

I’m not giving up on it, because they deserve to be punished, but I need to wait until things have settled down for Easton and Isaac, until they know what their future holds.

Taking a deep breath, I ride the elevator with a smile on my face and alight with a bounce in my step. It’s all fake but if I look the part, people will believe it.

Shaking my shoulders one more time, I walk through the doors to the street and come face-to-face with a sea of cameras, seconds before the flashing begins. I lift my hands to shield my eyes, but pause. That’s what they want. They want to capture a photo of me falling apart. But I refuse to let them.

Standing tall, I pop my hip and smile, waving to the cameras, not a care in the world. On the outside anyway. Inside, I’m drowning. Mom’s gone. Dad sent me some bullshit message about a team meeting today. On Thanksgiving. And I can’t go to Easton, no matter how much I want to.

I’m a positive person. Always have been. And yet, on a day that’s supposed to celebrate what we’re thankful for, I’ve got nothing. I’m empty.

The gossip-seekers bark random questions my way, all of which I ignore. And when I’ve given them all I can give, I wave again, tears threatening to overcome me as I turn around, seconds from falling apart.

I’ve just reached the doors when one of them calls out, and I foolishly glance back.

“I’ve heard about the unreleased photos, Paige. Are they all Easton? Or have you been doing the rounds?”

My body trembles as I struggle to hold back the floodgates, forcing another smile until a second voice calls out, telling me they love my work.

“Don’t listen to the haters,” she says and I swallow a lump in my throat, mouthing a thank you as I spin around and trip, or perhaps shatter, crashing into a familiar embrace right as the first tear falls.

Easton wraps me in his hold as he buries my face in his neck and drags me away from the spotlight.

“I’ve got you, Paige.” His grip on me tightens, perhaps aware I’m about to crack, knowing he’s the only thing keeping me together. “Just keep walking,” he repeats, his voice easing my pain, coursing through me like a shot of morphine. Even though it shouldn’t.“I’ve got you.”

I let him hold me until we’re in the elevator and then I spring back as though his touch burns, panic taking over. “What are you doing?” I whisper-yell despite being alone. “I told you we can’t be together. You have to stay away.”

“No. I don’t accept that.”

“It’s not a resignation. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Likehellit doesn’t.” He steps closer, forcing me backward until I hit the mirrored wall behind me.

“What happened to ‘I can’t drag Isaac into the spotlight.’ You’ve always said that.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to break up. Did I ever say I wanted you to run back to New York and out of my life?”

“No. But we knew our situation was delicate. That’s why we kept things casual.”

“Enough with the casual talk, Paige.” His voice rises as the doors open to my level. “This hasn’t been casual for a long time.” He holds the door and motions for me to step through, following me to my apartment. “These feelings I have are way beyond casual. So what? You expect me to switch them off and pretend I don’t love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone other than Isaac?”

“No. I feel the same. What I expect you to do is focus on that love for Isaac. You need to get custody. You need to do what’s right for him.”

I unlock the door so I don’t have to look at his face, and walk inside, holding it open this time, knowing he’s going to follow me.

“Iamdoing all of those things,” he snaps, walking through to the living room before spinning around to face me. “I am,” he repeats. “But I’m doing them with you by my side. I’m in those photos, Paige. It’s not just you.”

“But it’s not your fault they’re getting released.”

“It’s not yours, either.”

He stands tall, defiant, and I change tack. “Okay, you want to be together? What happens if I mess up again? What if we fight our way out of this but then something else comes along? Maybe I’m not cut out for this life. What if we want different things? What if you come to resent me? Or worse…what if you lose Isaac?”

Easton sighs before running a hand down his face. “Is this your out, Paige? Do youwantto run? To leave us? I pushed Macy into staying when she didn’t want to, and I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll never do that again. But I’m not ready to let you go. I want to fight, Paige. But only if there’s something to fight for.”

His ocean-blue eyes bore pleadingly into mine, and it momentarily renders me speechless, my words caught in my throat. “Please,” he says, begging me to stay.

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