Page 64 of Sugar Coated Lies
“Atlanta.”
I murmur the first thing that springs to my mind, “Sadie lives here.”
“Do you want to see her?”
Do I? “No. Not right now.”
“Okay. Come on.” Daire opens my car door and helps me out. He slips his arm around my waist, anchoring me to his strong side, and guides me to an elevator.
“I don’t have any clothes,” I murmur with realization. I don’t have anything, not even my purse or a toothbrush.
“I have stuff you can borrow.”
“How?”
“I live here.”
I struggle to squint up at him through my dry, swollen eyes. “You do?”
“It’s my condo. I live here when I’m not at the farm.”
If I were my normal self, I would question this, but the hurting version of me lacks the brain power and energy.
The elevator dings as we reach our floor. A private entryway greets us. We pass through it and enter a large modern room that resembles a fancy loft. Black leather, glass tables, furry rugs, and windows galore with views of the lit-up city scream bachelor pad.
“Now this fits you. The office at the store doesn’t.”
He lets out a small laugh. “The office was my dad’s. I’m rarely there so I never bothered to change it. This was my dad’s too, but I bought it from him and changed everything.”
“Oh.” Again, if I were my normal self, I’d have a lot more to say and ask.
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“When did you eat last?” Daire walks to the open kitchen on the right.
I shrug and inch farther into the room. “This morning.”
“You should probably eat something.”
“Do you have food here?” The clean, unlived appearance makes me think no.
“I have Uber eats and an abundance of restaurants.”
“Whatever you want is fine with me.” I stop at the counter across from him, a little out of my element but okay with the distraction, considering the alternative is to wallow in my sadness.
“Chinese?”
“Sure.”
Daire frowns. “Want a drink?”
“Like?”
He opens the large refrigerator. “Water, beer, sports drinks, or liquor. I have a full bar.” He nods toward the dining table, where a wall of glass shelves showcases fancy bottles of alcohol.
“Liquor.” Maybe if I can achieve a state of numbness, I can get through the night.
