"Go on then, spit it out. Might as well say what you think," I goad. It's not a good move, but then my fucks bank is still empty and the world has gone to shit.
She lets off a dry, incredulous laugh. "I can't believe you're going to trust her. All the holes in her story...Jeez. She's Spongebob fucking Prisspants."
"I never said I trusted her."
"Oh, but you do, Aeron. It's all over you. You were right about one thing—* makes you stupid."
"I've had enough." I jerk my head toward the door. "Out."
She takes a long swig of Coke. "The truth hurts, Hitler."
"I said, OUT!" I yell.
When she doesn't move, I shove past her and out of the office, slamming the door hard. She wants to make her point? Fine. She can do it on her own.
I miss my Leo.
Leontine might be in her office, but most of her has left the building. I find her folded into her big leather desk chair, her legs pulled up and her arms around her knees. The bag sits in her lap and she fiddles with it listlessly as she swings left and right. Her blind is pulled closed, and she's framed by the sliver of square outline that filters in around it. The place still reeks of lilies.
She barely even looks up when I enter.
"I never finished taking care of you," I manage to say.
Nothing. She just sniffs.
"You should let me take you home, sweetheart. Today's been pretty damn rough." I walk closer, just slowly, as if she's a small animal I might frighten away. Normally I wouldn't give a shit, but my base instincts took over the same time Rachel's gun went off and now I can't switch the bastards off. "I'll clean you up there. We'll take the rest of the day if you want, just crash out. What do you say?"
She presses her lips together, like she wants to smile. But no smile comes. "Don't you have questions for me?"
I eye the brown canvas bag still tucked between her legs. "Oh yeah. I got a couple."
"But you aren't asking them."
"I'm worried about you." I creep around to her and drop to my knees, so she's just a couple inches taller. I put my hands on the arms of the chair. "What just happened...it's kind of a mindfuck."
"Mmm." She sniffs again. Her black eyes are rimmed with rosy wet pink, and their liquid sheen seems to tremble. "I'm sorry."
"What the hell are you sorry for? You think she did that because of you?"
"I—I think you gave her the gun and I pulled the trigger. And I wish...I wish I hadn't..." She zeroes in on me, suddenly panting. "But you're not sorry, are you?"
"I'm sorry you're hurting."
"Jesus Christ." She tries to swing the chair from my grip, but I hold it firm.
"Tell me about you and Rachel," I murmur. "Make me sorry, baby."
The rough strap of the bag forms an undulating knot in her palms. "I should probably explain all that, huh?"
"It would help."
"I...we weren't really ever together. Officially, like. Which means I lied to the police officers. Fuck." She sounds so angry with herself; I want to wrap her up in my arms, peel her clothes away, find ways to make it all better. "We just had this thing...it went deeper than friendship, I guess. It's hard to describe."
"Were you sleeping with her?" There's a foul-tasting lump in my throat because I'm not sure I want to hear the answer.
She bites her lip. "For a while."
I dig my fingers into the leather seat until the fabric creaks for mercy. "When?
"Oh god. Not recently, Aeron. Not since I've been with you."
"I...good."
"It started a long time ago. Therapy's a pretty intense place to be." She drops a leg down, her bare calf brushing my jaw in a sandpapery rush of skin and stubble. "But we stopped speaking when I got the offer from you—or technically, I stopped speaking to her. Cut her out. I couldn't take it anymore."
I press my mouth to her knee. Kiss it. "Couldn't take what?"
She lifts the bag down and hands it to me. "You should probably take a look through this. You know, before the police figure out it's missing when they watch the security footage."
I frown into the gaping old bag, which appears to contain a bunch of print outs and newspaper clippings. Shiny magazine pages, their edges frayed with age.
"She kept everything she could find on you," Leo says softly. "Well. We did, I suppose." She drops a hand to cup my face, and studies me, her eyelashes shining with tears. "You're a beautiful man."
I flash her my dimpled grin. "I know."
"I wish you weren't."
"Let me take you home, sweetheart. Please." I will fuck this misery out of her. Carve new wounds I can make better. "I don't want to stay here."
She draws back up into the chair. "Then go home."
Already, I can feel my lip curling into the prerequisite snarl; she refused me. Unacceptable. I should force her to obey. But for some obscure reason...it's not what I want.
"We are like a cut, aren't we?" she says, her tone bitter. "Everything between us just bleeds and bleeds."
"Leo."
"I just can't right now. I can't. Leave me alone for a night, Aeron."
"I don't want to." I grip the chair tighter, afraid of what I might do otherwise. Of what I could fuck up. "Did you love her?"
"What?"