The very last thing I wanted was to go to his apartment. I’d much rather head straight to Perry’s and grab a slice of pizza on my way to my sister’s. I’d lose myself in her life, in her and Dean’s easy conversation, in their company. It was so much easier to be alone if I wasn’t actually alone. But before I was awarded pizza and distractions, I needed to pack a bag. I wanted my own shampoo and my own makeup. I needed clothes and shoes and my book, which was sitting on his coffee table. Funny, how I’d already divorced myself from that place, from my relationship. But finding him in flagrante as I had was the snapping of a cord, immediate and unsalvageable.

Nerves rose with every block the cab rolled through. I should have left earlier to guarantee he wouldn’t be home, and I hoped he had a late night at work. Or maybe he and Natasha were out. Maybe she was there.

God, I hoped she wasn’t there. Though I might have nearly murdered them in the conservatory with a candlestick, I hadn’t said a word. Today, I wouldn’t keep my mouth shut. And the last thing I needed was a complaint from a Felix Femme to Caroline.

The doorman let me in with the tip of his hat and a look that said he knew something. I didn’t have the courage to ask if Brock was home or if she was there, didn’t want him to pity me. I’d find out soon enough. The elevator beeped slower than I ever remembered, filling the metal box with its countdown. And when the doors finally opened, down that hall I went. Emotion swept over me, fresh as it had been when I’d last been in this place. My busyness was a facade, thin and temporary over the truth.

I was not okay. And this was not okay.

My keys rattled in my hand, slick as I unlocked the door and opened it, my eyes clicking to the wall where he’d fucked her last night, catching on the nick in the sheetrock from my outburst. The empty space was thick with ghosts. The apartment was quiet.

I sighed my relief and closed the door.

“Lila?”

His voice, tired and worn, from the dark living room. A shock, cold and sharp, down my spine.

“Of course it’s me,” I said, my acerbic tone shellac over my pain. “Who else would it be? I didn’t figure you’d given Natasha Felix a key, but you’re just full of surprises these days, aren’t you?”

The shadows shifted as he stood and turned on the light. I didn’t wait to hear him out. Instead, I marched toward the bedroom to do what I’d come to do. There was no backing down, nor was there any running away.