Page 129 of The Renter
“I can be there in ten minutes.”
As I open my apartment door, I see “Vacation Adam” is back. It’s all over his demeanor. Leaning down, he goes in for a kiss, but I step back, the distance between us both literal and metaphorical.
“Dani,” he begs.
I gesture toward my couch. Looking around my apartment, I quickly consider how if we break up, nothing can come with me—it’s all his. A memory of me being at Sorin’s resurfaces. Leaving my things behind, needing to get out of there. That memory has been perfectly compartmentalized away until now.
“You have my undivided attention.” After sitting on the couch next to me, Adam turns his phone off for emphasis.
“Since when do you have a white phone?”
“It was time for a new one.” He pauses. “I’m sorry this month has been crazy.” He leans over to hug me, and I let him. “I love this perfume, even if you hate it.”
Right.I glare at him. I haven’t showered yet today. I haven’t done anything but be lost in my thoughts.
“Can we really talk?”
“Is this a ‘we should pour some whiskey’ kind of talk?”
A small smile emerges before I say, “Whiskey.”
Adam gets up and heads into my kitchen while I consider what to say.
“Let’s talk,” he says, handing me my glass before taking his seat next to me.
“You scared me today.”
“Scared?” He looks stunned. “What are you talking about?”
I take a sip of the whiskey, knowing we’re about to dive into a lot.
“It was everything. Everything reminded me of Sorin.”
“What?” He sounds truly surprised.
“Your tone. The things you said. It scared me. I’ve been frozen all day—replaying it over and over. It felt like a warning that something worse might happen.”
“Dani. I would never hurt you.”
“I don’t think you would. But you do have some anger issues.”
“This deal … Everything else. I know I’ve overextended myself.”
“You deserve to always feel safe. You said that to me after Sorin,” I say, staring deeply into his eyes. “You punched Sorin. Declan made it seem like you punch people often when we saw him at the cottage. Greg told me?—”
Adam cuts me off. “You’re bringing up Declan.” He huffs. “When were you planning to tell me you’ve been lying about him?”
Trying not to look like a deer caught in the headlights, I furrow my brows. “What are you talking about?”
“When were you going to tell me you reached out to him … for years after Sorin?”
How the fuck does he know that?
“Don’t you dare.” His words are tight. “Try to fucking lie about it now.”
“It’s embarrassing …” I take a sip of my whiskey, buying myself a moment to think. “I texted him when I was in Italy to thank him for the money. I was able to travel so much because of it. I sent him some photos of the views and my food.” I decide to leave out the one text that could derail this conversation even further and other texts after Italy.
“There’s nothing else?”
