Crewe returned to the bedroom a few hours later. He was still stiff in his suit, his mood black and palpable. He looked the same as he did last night, pissed off and drunk. Except he hadn’t been drinking—at least to my knowledge. “What did you say to her?”
“She didn’t tell you?” I asked in surprise.
“She’s not my partner anymore.” He immediately moved for the liquor cabinet, needing booze the second he walked into a room. He couldn’t even carry on a conversation without having a glass in his hand.
“Crewe.”
He held the bottle as he looked at me.
“We can’t erase all the progress you’ve made.”
He turned around and poured a glass. “I erased all my progress when you left.” He took a drink and faced me. “So, we’re back to square one.”
“Whether I’m here or not, you should take it easy.”
“We both know you’re the key to both my health and happiness.” He took another long drink before he set the glass down. “What did you say to her?”
“I asked her to stay.”
“That obviously didn’t work…”
“I told her she was overreacting, that my feelings for you are genuine and I would never hurt you…again. But that wasn’t enough for her. She said I already betrayed you.” I left out the part about marriage, knowing that put unnecessary stress on our relationship. “It’s frustrating because I explained my side of the story, but she just won’t listen. I know she’s not stupid. She’s just…”
“Stubborn,” Crewe finished. “Yeah, I know.” He chuckled. “I’ve known her for a long time. She hasn’t changed since I first met her.”
“You didn’t fight for her?”
“No.” He fell back into one of the high-backed armchairs in the living room. “She made her decision. I’m not going to chase her. The money has been handled. I don’t owe her anything, and she doesn’t owe me anything.” He finished his glass then set the empty cup on the table.
“There’s more to your relationship than business.”
His eyes fixated on my gaze. “What are you implying?”
“That you love her.”
He shook his head slightly. “I’ve never had feelings for her. You know she’s gay, right?”
“That’s not what I mean, Crewe. I know you love her like family.”
He looked away, as if admitting it was too difficult. “She’s one of the few people I trust…”
“You can’t just let her go, Crewe. Maybe you can give her some space then talk to her.”
“It won’t do any good. She gave me an ultimatum, and I made my decision.”
Me. “There shouldn’t be an ultimatum at all.”
“I understand her point of view. I’ve made some unusual decisions, so she questions my judgment.”
“Your personal life has nothing to do with your work.”
“That’s not completely true. If you have a DUI, it’s a lot more difficult to get a job. That has nothing to do with a position you’re applying for, but it’s relevant. If you make bad decisions off the clock, will you make good decisions on the clock?”
“First of all, a DUI is a traffic offense. Not the same thing. And second of all, are you implying I’m a bad decision?”
“If you were, would I still be here?”
“You never answered the question.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Objectively, yes. You are a bad decision. You aren’t a suitable partner, and we started off in a complicated situation. But you shouldn’t take that personally.”
“Yeah, that’s easy to do…”
“You asked me a question, and I answered honestly.” He crossed his legs, resting his ankle on the opposite knee. He ran his palm up the side of his face, feeling his five o’clock shadow that had already started to come in. “Forget about Ariel. She’s gone, and we need to move on.”
“I just don’t think it’s fair that you’re losing her because of me.”
“I don’t either. But that was her choice.”
“And you’re really okay with this?”
“Okay with what?” He looked at me, his fingertips resting under his chin.
“Losing her so you can be with me.” She was far more valuable than I ever was. I was the reason he had a scar over his chest at that very moment. I didn’t help him with his business or anything else. I was easily replaceable; Ariel wasn’t.
He shrugged. “I’m not happy with the way things turned out, but I know I can’t live without you. Been there, done that.” He avoided my gaze, his fingertips moving over his chin.
When I walked toward him, he finally looked up, his gaze intense and vulnerable at the same time. It was a look I’d been seeing more of, particularly last night. Sometimes it seemed like he wanted to be more open with me but was afraid of doing it.
I stood at his side and ran my fingers over his forearm as it rested on the armchair. “Why did you go out last night?”
“I don’t know.”