DECEIT (B723) by Hazel Grace (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📕

and off and woke me. I finally checked it to make sure Scarlett or your brother didn’t need you. It was your security system at the house. Camilla was there again, outside on your front porch.” Geezus fucking Christ. She inhales a deep breath, and her nostrils flare. I know that look. She’s about to break. “I just want you to be straight with me. If you…If you want to give her another chance, Bish, just let me know. I’ll sign—”

“I honestly have no fucking idea why she was there, nor do I care,” I sneer through a blurring tunnel of self-preservation, remorse, and memories. “I’m tired of talking about this.”

“I want to hear you say it.” She wipes out the only air I have solo and impedes it. Demanding for me to open up about my past. “I want to hear you state that whatever you feel for her doesn’t fuck us up.”

“She didn’t screw us up, Ems,” I leer slowly and guardedly. “You did. I may have been slow with opening up, but you slammed that door in my face when you freaked out about us getting married, and I let you have that. Then months went on, I wanted to tell the boys that I had a beautiful wife and it was you. I was ready. I was scared fucking shitless, but eventually…crush or not, Emmy, it would’ve evolved if it hasn’t already.”

“Evolve into what? You never even asked me on a date. You never—”

“What are we fucking sixteen?”

She scoffs at me. “No, I’m a woman that likes to feel like you wanted to put in the effort.”

“I’m done talking about this.” I wave a dismissive hand in the air. “This is a long road that leads to nowhere. Camilla doesn’t mean shit to me. So keep convincing yourself that I’m all to blame.”

“I’m not, but—“

“You are. Man the hell up.”

She sniffs through her nose. “Fuck it then. Yes, I messed us up too, but even afterward, you still stayed closed off and shut down.”

“And you still kept me a dirty, dark secret that you allowed to fuck you.”

“You don’t love me,” she bursts out as if she’s been keeping it to herself for years. “And I don’t love you. So when we’re finished with this shit, you can deal with your own messes from now on. I’m done.”

Then she spins around, her warmth leaving my rigid body, and begins towards the door.

I let her go. It’s better this way; I saying it to myself over and over.

Thing is, I don’t wish to keep it to myself—us.

I want to just be free of it.

A month later…

Four weeks is a lot of time to ponder. To reevaluate and bring yourself to some sort of conclusion on how you think you should change, act, and make your next move.

Bishop already has a head start.

Two days after we fought in the Hamptons, he took a mission that Ledger left openly assigned and went to Germany.

I haven’t heard from him since.

Numerous times I’ve picked up my phone, tempted to apologize.

Other times I needed to call him out and corner him to tell me that he loved me in some capacity, whether it was more as friends or not at all.

Having sex wasn’t practical anymore to my health, and the unknown is something that has been eating me alive ever since.

However, the more I push him, the more obvious that he backs away. And maybe it’s in my nature to destroy and not create.

Bishop doesn’t need or want someone so overbearing and childish as me because that’s how I’ve been behaving. I might as well have stomped my foot and demanded him run his every action by me from now on. I sure as hell wouldn’t choose me as a wife; how can I blame him?

“Do you not like your food?” My eyes flick from my medium-cooked steak and garlic mashed potatoes to find my date, Alexander, at the other side of the table.

Dressed in a khaki-colored coat and a white button-up cardigan underneath, Alexander is studying me with a perked brow. He’s more than likely waiting for me to give him the green light to call over the waiter for whatever I may need.

It isn’t the food, obviously, it’s my situation.

It’s the fact that I haven’t felt good in weeks and it’s all his fault.

And mine.

My stomach knots and wants to retch up all the contents in it. I’m getting headaches, feel fatigued, and I might sound like a whiny bitch, but when he’s not around, nothing feels right.

As pathetic and stupid as that may be.

Nonetheless, it’s given me time to ponder how to accomplish all of the things above.

But that’s all I’ve done is think.

I haven’t made any decisions yet and I’m not sure what I’m waiting for. I’ve murdered and buried our relationship. And even though the physical attraction is still there, it won’t make us last more than it has.

“Everything is wonderful,” I convey, forcing a genuine smile to form on my face. “I’m sorry, work is—has been on my mind all day.”

“You need a break, Emmy.” He lifts his wine glass and swirls the red contents. “You know...I have a business trip to Florida coming up. It’s nothing exotic or Paris even, but it’s water and sunshine. You wanna come?”

I shake my head. “I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” He takes a small sip of his Pinot Noir and licks his bottom lip.

I envy a little of Alexander.

I envy how he’s so open and honest.

How, no matter the answer, he’ll still ask questions and obtain what he wants and needs even if it doesn’t work in his favor.

“You’ll be busy.” It’s the only excuse I have. “And besides, I have a lot of things to do here.”

I don’t have shit to do around here. 

“Alright…but if you change your mind, my offer is still open. Now eat your meal, Emmy, I’m sure you haven’t eaten all day.”

My appreciative smile is genuine this time because he notices small details like that.