My chest tightened, constricting my breathing.
It’s better this way.
She’s better off without me.
I repeated those words over and over in my head, trying to convince myself that I had done what was best for her in the long run. A mantra, as I remained in the hall, listening to everything that poured out of her. My heart broke more the longer I listened, but it was my punishment. I had to hear her pain, because she was what mattered most.
But if I walked through that door and saw her, I might shatter. I’d much rather sit outside, listening to her scream, and let her be comforted by Darren. He knew what to do. He always did. I couldn’t offer her any solace; I didn’t have it in me anymore.
All my fucking fault. All of it.
They released Lila the next day, and I was left without any outlet to her. At least in the hospital I could be near her, but it was much better that she wasn’t there any longer. However, I was not better.
The beast within me paced, and I grew restless. Sleep evaded me, and I was lucky to be getting three or four hours a night. It was never in one shot either; forty-five minutes here, thirty there.
When Monday rolled around, I was anxious yet elated. I would see her again, and maybe that would soothe me some. I was happy she was returning to work because that meant she was awake. Over the previous few days, I found out just how much I’d grown used to always being around her, how much I was addicted to her.
I arrived at the office early, as insomnia had me up before five, and anxiously awaited her arrival. I was a nervous wreck and had no clue what to do or how to act. I just knew I was miserable, and I guessed that she was worse.
Worse was an understatement when she arrived a little while later. What walked through the door and into our office was not the Lila I knew. My heart ripped again. She looked…different. Almost as if she’d reverted back to that time in the parking lot. Her eyes were directed to the floor, hair down. She didn’t look my way. She didn’t acknowledge my presence.
It was difficult to look at her, knowing I’d done that to my Lila, but it had to be that way. Didn’t it?
I could smell her, and a calm spread through my every nerve. She was there. She was alive. That was what mattered.
Alive.
She continued to avoid looking at me while booting up her computer and sorting through the piles on her desk. Still no acknowledgement.
“Good morning, Lila,” I said. I was going to say more, but refrained when she cringed. My chest burned, the knife twisting deeper.
It was better that way.
The days passed just the same, silence prevailing between us. I hated it. Every moment was torture, and not just on me. Lila wasn’t even trying to hide the pain, her façade blown away. Stuffing herself into work to avoid thinking, perhaps?
I knew that was what I was doing. Distracting myself with contract after contract.
On her fourth day back, it was so busy I didn’t even take a lunch break. I ran to the lobby, picked up a quick deli sandwich from one of the vendors that occupied the first floor, and ate at my desk. I almost picked up Lila’s favorite, but I had a suspicion it was a bad idea.
She never left her desk, other than to get more coffee or some water. She drank her coffee black, so I knew she wasn’t getting any calories there, and I hadn’t seen her eat anything.
I glanced over at her and cringed. She’d lost weight over the last week. Not a lot, but noticeable. I knew I was to blame.
She’s in love with you!
Caroline’s words rang through, interrupting my thoughts.
There were only two hours left before she was to leave, Jack making sure she didn’t overdo it, and I had a feeling she wasn’t eating at home.
I knew I wasn’t.
“Lila, go eat something,” I said, my eyes never leaving the screen. I needed to stay detached to keep myself restrained. That was why I hadn’t engaged in conversation with her since her return.
“No.” Her fingers didn’t even skip a beat on her typing.
My jaw twitched. “Go.”
“I’m not hungry.” Her voice was detached, but held the beginnings of annoyance.
I slammed my hands down on my desk.
Dammit!
In my periphery she jumped, but kept her head down. I startled her. She did look my way as I stalked out and down to the break room. I surveyed the contents of the vending machine and found there wasn’t much of anything healthy, but at that point, she just needed something in her system.
Her favorite granola bar was there, so I entered my money into the slot. After retrieving it from the machine, I returned to the confines of our office. I threw the bar onto her desk, and it landed right in front of her.
“Eat it,” I demanded.
“No.”
“Eat the fucking granola bar before I shove it down your throat.” It was taking all my control to keep from yelling at her; I was so angry that she wouldn’t just take it.
Her hand wrapped around the package, and I smiled on the inside. My body sighed in relief that she was doing as I asked, but was quickly proven wrong when she threw it against the wall. It shattered inside the wrapper with a crack before falling to the floor.
“Oh, I’ve heard that threat before,” she spat up at me. Anger was boiling in her eyes, venom lacing her tone.
My eyes grew wide as I remembered the last time I’d given her a similar threat. My chest ached, longing for the time when things were different between us. Times where my possessiveness was allowed to get the better of me, and my cock ruled.
Her anger was new, confusing, and I didn’t know what to do. Something that scared me, but made me proud at the same time. I hated that she was going against me, but at the same time happy she was fighting back.
CHAPTER 29
I’d taken to drinking at night, which was not good for anything that got in my path. The alcohol reduced my inhibitions, and the beast was let out. All my anger and pain was unleashed upon my surroundings.
I wondered if I was like a drug addict going through withdrawal. I had all the symptoms, my physical dependence on Lila showing its ugly self.
My depression and anxiety spiked, and I craved her more than I ever had before. I needed her.
My condo was a mess: the drywall still laid on the floor in the entryway, various pieces of furniture were knocked over, and the closet in the master bedroom was ransacked. Clothes, shoes, belts were strewn all over the floor. Casualties of my search for something, anything, that was hers.
It’s better this way.
She’s better off without me.
I repeated those words over and over in my head, trying to convince myself that I had done what was best for her in the long run. A mantra, as I remained in the hall, listening to everything that poured out of her. My heart broke more the longer I listened, but it was my punishment. I had to hear her pain, because she was what mattered most.
But if I walked through that door and saw her, I might shatter. I’d much rather sit outside, listening to her scream, and let her be comforted by Darren. He knew what to do. He always did. I couldn’t offer her any solace; I didn’t have it in me anymore.
All my fucking fault. All of it.
They released Lila the next day, and I was left without any outlet to her. At least in the hospital I could be near her, but it was much better that she wasn’t there any longer. However, I was not better.
The beast within me paced, and I grew restless. Sleep evaded me, and I was lucky to be getting three or four hours a night. It was never in one shot either; forty-five minutes here, thirty there.
When Monday rolled around, I was anxious yet elated. I would see her again, and maybe that would soothe me some. I was happy she was returning to work because that meant she was awake. Over the previous few days, I found out just how much I’d grown used to always being around her, how much I was addicted to her.
I arrived at the office early, as insomnia had me up before five, and anxiously awaited her arrival. I was a nervous wreck and had no clue what to do or how to act. I just knew I was miserable, and I guessed that she was worse.
Worse was an understatement when she arrived a little while later. What walked through the door and into our office was not the Lila I knew. My heart ripped again. She looked…different. Almost as if she’d reverted back to that time in the parking lot. Her eyes were directed to the floor, hair down. She didn’t look my way. She didn’t acknowledge my presence.
It was difficult to look at her, knowing I’d done that to my Lila, but it had to be that way. Didn’t it?
I could smell her, and a calm spread through my every nerve. She was there. She was alive. That was what mattered.
Alive.
She continued to avoid looking at me while booting up her computer and sorting through the piles on her desk. Still no acknowledgement.
“Good morning, Lila,” I said. I was going to say more, but refrained when she cringed. My chest burned, the knife twisting deeper.
It was better that way.
The days passed just the same, silence prevailing between us. I hated it. Every moment was torture, and not just on me. Lila wasn’t even trying to hide the pain, her façade blown away. Stuffing herself into work to avoid thinking, perhaps?
I knew that was what I was doing. Distracting myself with contract after contract.
On her fourth day back, it was so busy I didn’t even take a lunch break. I ran to the lobby, picked up a quick deli sandwich from one of the vendors that occupied the first floor, and ate at my desk. I almost picked up Lila’s favorite, but I had a suspicion it was a bad idea.
She never left her desk, other than to get more coffee or some water. She drank her coffee black, so I knew she wasn’t getting any calories there, and I hadn’t seen her eat anything.
I glanced over at her and cringed. She’d lost weight over the last week. Not a lot, but noticeable. I knew I was to blame.
She’s in love with you!
Caroline’s words rang through, interrupting my thoughts.
There were only two hours left before she was to leave, Jack making sure she didn’t overdo it, and I had a feeling she wasn’t eating at home.
I knew I wasn’t.
“Lila, go eat something,” I said, my eyes never leaving the screen. I needed to stay detached to keep myself restrained. That was why I hadn’t engaged in conversation with her since her return.
“No.” Her fingers didn’t even skip a beat on her typing.
My jaw twitched. “Go.”
“I’m not hungry.” Her voice was detached, but held the beginnings of annoyance.
I slammed my hands down on my desk.
Dammit!
In my periphery she jumped, but kept her head down. I startled her. She did look my way as I stalked out and down to the break room. I surveyed the contents of the vending machine and found there wasn’t much of anything healthy, but at that point, she just needed something in her system.
Her favorite granola bar was there, so I entered my money into the slot. After retrieving it from the machine, I returned to the confines of our office. I threw the bar onto her desk, and it landed right in front of her.
“Eat it,” I demanded.
“No.”
“Eat the fucking granola bar before I shove it down your throat.” It was taking all my control to keep from yelling at her; I was so angry that she wouldn’t just take it.
Her hand wrapped around the package, and I smiled on the inside. My body sighed in relief that she was doing as I asked, but was quickly proven wrong when she threw it against the wall. It shattered inside the wrapper with a crack before falling to the floor.
“Oh, I’ve heard that threat before,” she spat up at me. Anger was boiling in her eyes, venom lacing her tone.
My eyes grew wide as I remembered the last time I’d given her a similar threat. My chest ached, longing for the time when things were different between us. Times where my possessiveness was allowed to get the better of me, and my cock ruled.
Her anger was new, confusing, and I didn’t know what to do. Something that scared me, but made me proud at the same time. I hated that she was going against me, but at the same time happy she was fighting back.
CHAPTER 29
I’d taken to drinking at night, which was not good for anything that got in my path. The alcohol reduced my inhibitions, and the beast was let out. All my anger and pain was unleashed upon my surroundings.
I wondered if I was like a drug addict going through withdrawal. I had all the symptoms, my physical dependence on Lila showing its ugly self.
My depression and anxiety spiked, and I craved her more than I ever had before. I needed her.
My condo was a mess: the drywall still laid on the floor in the entryway, various pieces of furniture were knocked over, and the closet in the master bedroom was ransacked. Clothes, shoes, belts were strewn all over the floor. Casualties of my search for something, anything, that was hers.
