CHAPTER13
Violet
The bar in Bryanston is pumping. I’ve been here a couple of times with some of my classmates from university. Unlike other normal young people who know all the popular places for hanging out in town, this is the only place I know.
It’s sad, really.
But here I am, nursing a gin and tonic and hating every minute. The barman had a heavy hand with the gin, but the alcohol does nothing to dull my bruised feelings.
It’s jealousy, my heart whispers, but my mind stubbornly refuses to admit it. Seeing Leon with that blond bimbo in Oscars didn’t surprise me, so why does it hurt like hell? From how familiar they seemed with each other, they didn’t meet for the first time tonight. No, Leon didn’t pick her up from a street corner. She was dressed for the restaurant, the outfit carefully selected. He’d invited her after dumping me.
That son of a bitch.
I, on the other hand, am not dressed for the yuppie bar I find myself in. I was still wearing my T-shirt and jeans when I left the house. I still don’t know what had gotten into me or why I decided to drive to Oscars.
No.
That’s not true.
I drove there because of the way in which Leon had left. He’d looked not only disappointed but also disgusted. I was worried he’d gone out to get drunk again, but the suspicion in the back of my mind wouldn’t let me go. I should learn to trust my instinct. Like the blonde I saw tonight proved, it’s never wrong. Just like my mom predicted, Leon will sleep around. Why? Because that’s the way men like Gus and Leon operate. They’re not loyal or faithful. They marry for power, financial gain, obsession, or, in my case, for revenge. Never for love.
What do I care?
The problem is that I do. I can lie to myself as much as I want to, but I hated seeing him with another woman. I hate the idea of him with all those other women before me. I’m jealous of every one of them and envious of what Leon had given them because maybe, just maybe, he gave them the tenderness he can’t spare me. I can’t even think about what he’s doing right now because it hurts like a burning torch jammed straight into my heart. I hate how it makes me feel—discarded, unimportant, and unloved.
What does it feel like to be cherished and respected? To be loved for who you are, regardless of the fact that you’re a bit of a pervert?
I tilt back my head and take a long drink. If only the alcohol does its job and numbs my senses.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I set the drink aside and take out my phone.
It’s Leon.
My heart skips a beat even as coldness travels through my body.
If he’s calling to tell me he won’t be home tonight, he didn’t have to bother. He owes me nothing, not even the courtesy of not letting me worry if he doesn’t show up before sunrise.
I’m tempted to reject the call, but I remember his warning about not answering his calls only too well.
Swiping my finger over the screen, I put the phone against my ear, but I don’t speak. My voice refuses to function with the knot that’s stuck in my throat.
“Violet,” Leon says, his manner curt. “Where are you?”
Twirling my glass, I smile. I hope he hears the happiness in my voice. “In a bar.”
“Where?”
“Cut the bullshit, Leon. You’re tracking my phone, for crying out loud.”
“Where, Violet?” He sounds downright angry now. “I need to know you’re safe.”
“I’m fine. I just needed the same as you did tonight.”
“You need to speak up. The music is loud.”
“Oh, how shocking.” My tone is taunting. “My bad for choosing such a noisy bar. Just say jump and I’ll step outside.”
“No,” he says harshly. “I don’t want you hanging around alone in the dark. Stay inside. I’m on my way.”
“You missed a crucial point. You’re not welcome.”
“You’re testing my patience, darling.”
“You can stay with the bimbo, Leon. I’ve got my own thing going on here.”
He curses under his breath. “You came to the restaurant?”