Page 109 of Break Point
Thankfully, there are no paparazzi on site. They’ve all probably fled to the cocktail party to catch a shot oftheWilliam Sjöberg.
Thanks, William.
We get out of the car after I wipe away the snot and tears as best I can with the tissues Vlad so kindly handed me earlier. The lobby is quiet. There’s some movement, but thankfully, no one I know.
“Your gift!” Gemma says, clicking the elevator button. “Want to come up for a bit so I can try to cheer you up with it?”
“Gemma! You didn’t have to get me anything. You flying all the way here is already gift enough, and?—”
“Shush,” she cuts me off and pulls me into the elevator. I draw her in for a tight hug.
I’m so thankful for her.
“Henry wanted to talk, but I’ll just call him and ask if we can do it tomorrow after the match,” I say, breaking off the embrace and reaching into my purse for my phone. “I don’t think I’m in the right headspace for it.”
“Are you sure? I totally get it if you guys need to talk.”
“I promise,” I say, stepping out of the elevator. “Now’s not the best time for a deep conversation with him.”
Gemma walks a few steps ahead of me, her room keycard in hand, and I follow while tapping my phone screen to call Henry. It rings a few times before going to voicemail. He might still be busy dealing with Robbie.
We step into Gemma’s room, and she rushes to grab my present. It’s a small box wrapped in beautiful birthday paper with a silver bow. She hands it to me and insists I open it right away.
“Gemma!” I gape at the vintage Chanel sunglasses. They’re chunky and white, withChanelandParisprinted around the flat, circularframe.
“I know you love your ’90s vibes,” she says with a grin. “Do you like them?”
“Are you kidding me? Ilovethem!” I hug her again for the millionth time today and put the sunglasses on. “Thank you so much!” She pulls out her phone and snaps a few silly shots of me with them.
We take a selfie as my phone buzzes. It’s my 9:00 p.m. alarm. A reminder to start unwinding and head to bed.
“I should get going,” I tell Gemma, keeping the sunglasses on for fun. “You must be exhausted.”
“I’m fine.”
She’d stay up all night talking if I asked her to. I’d do the same for her. But what we both need right now is rest.
Gemma walks me to the door, and I pull out my phone again.
“I’ll try Henry one last time,” I say, hoping he picks up. “He’s a night owl. He wouldn’t?—”
A few doors down the hall, Henry steps out of a room, looking at his phone.
“Hey, Bells, are you back?” I hear through my phone’s speaker. But he’s close enough that I can listen to it live, too. I end the call.
“Hey!” I shout back with a smile, startling him.
“Bells,” he says, his face tight with panic as the door clicks shut behind him. He slips his phone into his pocket. He’s carrying his jacket over his arm and a few buttons of his white shirt are undone.
“I didn’t know your room was this close to Gemma’s,” I say, walking toward him and tucking my phone back into my purse.
Something flickers behind his panic. Something worse.
“That’s … Zoya’s room,” Gemma says behind me.
I freeze.
I glance over my shoulder and meet her eyes. She’s not messing with me. This is real. ThatisZoya’s room. And that’s Henry stepping out of it.
