His company phone blares, and he picks it up briskly. “I’ll be out in a moment.” He slams it onto the receiver. “I have a meeting with the investors. They’re outside,” he tells me, his voice controlled and calm, although I can tell he’s anything but that.
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were meeting with them today. I should have waited.”
“Dimitri’s downstairs. He’ll take you home.”
Tears are at the edges of my lids, near pouring down my cheeks. I somehow manage to keep them at bay. “Okay.”
The moment I’m free of the room and the door clicks shut, a bang echoes from inside, and I bite back a sob, seeing a group of men approaching from the other end of the hall.
I need to get out of here.
***
I step into the apartment, not bothering to turn on any lights.
All I want is a bath. After taking another dosage of medications, I strip and settle myself in, relaxing onto the marble ledge.
“Darcy?”
I jump in fear at Benjamin’s voice, and my eyes snap open, my hand reactively clutching my chest when I notice his towering form by the door. “Jesus, you scared me.”
He’s still holding his briefcase. “You were asleep…in the bathtub. You could have drowned.”
“Oh. What time is it?”
“Nine.”
I slept for an hour in here.
He hands me a towel from the rack, and I haul myself out of the cold water. He hovers by the door while I wrap myself with it.
“What is this?”
I turn, seeing him holding my pill bottle. I open my mouth; nothing comes out.
“Darcy, what the hell is this? Your doctor is already prescribing you medication?”
“It’s to keep my immune system up, that’s all.” I snatch the bottle from him and slam it down on the sink, aggravated by the frustration in his voice. At some point, I’ll have to tell him about everything else. Today is clearly not that day.
He follows me out into the bedroom, and while I search for clothes, he undresses.
It’s so tense, the air in the room could choke someone. I pick up my nightgown and walk to the bathroom, oddly uneasy to dress in front of him. I pull the soft material over my head, experiencing sharp shortness of breath, panic seizing my nervous system.
Everything was so perfect. And now we’re here. I’m changing in the damn bathroom.
I swipe away the tears on my cheeks and force myself back into the bedroom. It takes all the courage I have. He’s sitting on the bed waiting for me.
“I’m sorry.”
My mouth trembling, I slow down, realizing we’ve got a big conversation ahead of us.
“For what?”
“For making you feel like you needed to change in another room.”
“I’m just as scared as you,” I say, hoping I’ll touch some deep part of him and magically make him want this.
“We’re not ready for this.”