How could he throw it all away?
“Thank you for telling me, Carter.”
“Of course,” he whispered. “You’re a good person, Sapphire. Don’t settle for a man who doesn’t deserve you. I love my cousin like a brother, but he’s got his head shoved up his ass right now.”
Like all the other Barsettis, Carter was a good person. He was masculine and strong, but he showed affection when it mattered. Talking to me was a betrayal, but he knew it was the right thing to do. “I should go.”
“Talk to him,” he said. “You’re the only person who can talk sense into him. I’ve already tried.”
I used to have a strong effect on him, but that seemed like ancient history now. “I will.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” It was a relief to hang up, so I could let a few more tears fall in privacy. It was stupid to cry over a man, but Conway wasn’t just any man. He was the man who owned my heart. When he let me go, he released his hold over my body, but I left my heart freely behind.
I wanted him to have it.
I wanted him to have all of me.
I wiped my tears away and allowed myself a few minutes to compose myself. I didn’t want him to notice the evidence of my tears, the puffiness of my face and the redness in my eyes. I controlled my emotions long enough for them to die away before I went in search of him.
My heart was beating so fast.
I didn’t know how this conversation was going to go, but I suspected it wouldn’t go well. But I hoped I could say the right things to calm him down.
There were dozens of bedrooms in this place, and I didn’t want to search one by one. Knowing him, he wasn’t sleeping.
He was drinking.
I went to his office, even though he almost never used it. I opened the door and found him sitting behind the desk, smoking a cigar and drinking scotch right out of the bottle. The smoke rose from his nostrils and drifted to the ceiling. His eyes were lidded, but he still wore the same malicious expression.
I refused to be afraid of him.
I walked across the room and stopped in front of his desk. I’d asked him to stop smoking, but my wishes obviously meant nothing to him. If he wanted to smoke and die, fine. I wouldn’t waste any more time trying to stop him. “You’re a coward.” I planted my hands against the desk and stared him down.
His eyes immediately narrowed at my words.
“You’re a coward for many reasons. Number one, you come home acting like the biggest dick face in the world. You treat me like garbage, and you don’t have the balls to tell me what your problem is. Instead, you ignore me until I confront you about it. Number two, you’re pissed that I had the strength to tell the whole world that I love you, and you’re too scared to admit it yourself.”
He lowered his cigar, his eyes contracting farther.
“You can sit there and say you don’t feel the same way, but that’s a bunch of bullshit. You’re in love with me, it’s obvious in everything that you do. It’s obvious in the way you tell me you miss me, obvious in the way you need me. You kiss me like I’m the only woman who’s ever meant anything to you—because I am. I’m sorry this didn’t go the way you wanted, but you’re going to have to get over it. You’re lucky I’m still here at all.”
He sucked on his cigar again, his eyes unblinking.
I gripped the edge of the desk between my forefingers and thumb, feeling the sweat from my palms coat the smooth wood.
“Man up, Conway. First, apologize. Then tell me you love me.”
He released the smoke from his lips, his eyes trained on my face. His expression was carefully controlled, his thoughts hidden deep within his eyes. He was calmer than earlier, but it was probably just an act. His hostility was still evident, obvious in the rigid way he held himself.
He dropped the cigar directly on the desk and slowly rose to his feet. He planted both of his hands against the desk and gave me a ferocious stare. “Sapphire.” All he did was say my name, and that told me how the rest of this was going to go. “I told you this relationship meant nothing. You’re just some woman I fuck. You’re just some woman who occupies my time. I don’t love you now, nor will I ever. Marriage and romance were never on the table. It’s not my fault you thought otherwise.”
I kept up my glare, refusing to show just how much those words hurt. I refused to cry, to allow him to witness my heart breaking in real time.