Page 86 of Desserts for Stressed People

I can’t believe he’s trying to convince her to...what, exactly? Say she’s a doctor and she’s there for a home visit? Does he want her to climb down the fire escape?

Whatever he’s asking her to do, she doesn’t. Instead, she storms out of the bedroom and shoots me a look I can’t really figure out. Maybe she’s embarrassed, or she hates me. She’s holding her shoes, and on the way out of the apartment, she grabs her bag too.

“Your top is backward,” I say. Or rather, it comes out of my lips. I have nothing against this girl, and she looks as uncomfortable as me.

With a sullen look, she leaves the apartment and doesn’t bother closing the door, and neither do I. I’m waiting for him to come out of the bedroom. How much of a coward can he be? He has to know at some point he’s going to have to face the consequences of his actions.

When an entire minute passes and he’s still inside the bedroom, I drop the bottle of water on the kitchen table and stride to him. He’s sitting on the bed with his face between his hands. His clothes are back on, and there’s a condom on my sheets.

Without a word, I walk to the closet, grab the biggest suitcase I can find, and start throwing all his clothes in it.

“What are you doing?” he asks. His voice is gruff and broken, but I can’t begin to care.

I move onto his t-shirts, shoving them inside. “You’ve never been good at packing. I’m doing it for you.” When he gets up and grabs my wrist to stop me, I twist out of his hold. Hell will freeze before I let him put his hands on me again.“Don’t you dare touch me.”

I stuff pairs of jeans into the luggage, and it’s completely full before I’m halfway done. The fact that all of it has been thrown in there doesn’t help. I zip the luggage closed and drag it into the living room.

“Heaven, stop. We’re gonna talk about this.”

Anger pushes against my chest, trying to open me from the inside. Swinging around, I shout, “Now’s the time to talk,Alex? Now? Why didn’t you talk before?”

“You know this situation isn’t only my fault. We’ve been drifting apart for—”

“No,” I snarl. “If you had any interest in saving our relationship, you would have done something about it. Sleeping around isn’t a solution. It’s selfish and disgusting and horrible.”

He passes both hands over his face and walks up to me, holding onto my shoulders. “I know, Heaven. I know. Please...” His cobalt blue irises glisten with tears, his nose twitching with a sniffle. He’s about to cry, and that hasn’t happened since his grandfather died four years ago. For a second, it freezes me. I am not used to seeing his emotions anymore. “I made a mistake, I know. But I can make it up to you. I promise, it’ll never happen again.”

I shake my head and take a step back so that he’ll stop touching me, but he takes one forward. “Let me go,” I say, and when he doesn’t, I slap both his arms away. “I don’t want you to touch me, Alex.”

He sobs—the first tears spilling out—and I cry too as we stare at each other for a few seconds.

He knows it’s over, and it dawns on me that now it really is. This is it—the end. I’ve had plenty of time to get used to it, so why haven’t I? Why does it feel like this is the first time I’ve thought about it?

“I can’t be without you,” he whines. It looks like he means it. We have been together for so long, he probably does. “You know I love you.”

Drying the tears on my cheeks with the back of my hand, I sniffle. This might be the last time I hear his voice. Or at the very least, the last time he says he loves me. When I wake up tomorrow morning, there won’t be the smell of fresh coffee or his aftershave. And I won’t see him staring at his stupid crime series when I come home from work.

“You have to go,” I insist.

He shakes his head. “I won’t. We’ll figure it out together. Please.”

“Ineedyou to go,” I say, and it almost sounds like I’m begging. Maybe I am. I won’t forcefully kick him out of the apartment—I can’t. He’s taller and heavier than me—besides, this is also his place. But I won’t make worse of a show of our relationship. He has to give me this. After everything he’s taken, I need him to give me this one thing.

“Heaven, please...”

“No,” I insist. “You’ve lied to me.” Bringing both hands to my face, I try to hide just how much it hurts. My voice isn’t as sure as I’d like it to be, as stone-cold. “You’ve ignored me for months and you don’t care about me. Jesus Christ, the only thing you want me around for areblowjobs!”

As his eyes shoot behind me, his expression hardens. Enough to make me turn around and meet Shane’s gaze. Fuck. How much of this conversation has he heard? He must have heard the last part.

“Is this why you won’t give me a second chance?” Alex asks with a spiteful expression on his face. His glare remains on Shane, dark and angry and definitely more violent than it should be.

I shake my head. “No. I won’t give you a chance because you don’t deserve it.”

“Right. So the difference between you and me is that I got caught.”

My chest vibrates with fury. I’ve never felt so aggressive in my whole life, and for a second, it scares me. But anger crashes into me again like a wave, and I’m short of growling when I spit back, “The difference between you and me is that I haven’t cheated on you.”

A bitter laugh rolls out of his lips. “And what were you doing last night? Not cheating on me? Or were you with him, acting like a fucking whore to get your promotion?” He sneers. “Remember to invoice all those hours.”

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