“No offense,” Katya managed a watery laugh. “But I think you chose your side when you stayed with me. Why did you do that?”
“Mr. Stone is ultimately just a paycheck – I still have ethics, and I still know when wrong has been done. Even if he's not ready to apologize yet, I wanted to stay behind and at least apologize on his behalf. My job can wait for an hour or two while I help clean up.”
“Honestly, I'll be surprised if you still have a job.”
“Please. That agency couldn't run without me. I will be going back to my job, and he will be getting a piece of my mind. Besides, Mr. Stone would never let me go, I'm invaluable to him,” Ayumi stated.
“Huh. Must be nice. I wouldn't know how that feels,” Katya whispered.
And with that, the tears started all over again.
21
Jesus, I knew it was gonna be bad, but goddamn, I took it to a ten.
Wulfric couldn't remember ever losing so much control before – Katya had that effect on him. He lost his mind when he was around her. Usually it worked to both their benefits. That day, it had worked against them.
He had thought he could keep her separate. In a special place in his mind, well away from his heart. Similar to where he kept everyone else, only a little darker. Only a little farther back. Turned out, he'd pushed her so far back in his mind, she'd fallen straight past his defenses and taken up root in his chest, blossomed inside his heart. Made a garden there. A bright and sunny spot, right in the middle of his life.
There was no other ending for them, but an ending. He knew that, had known it since the beginning. He'd wanted to spare her the pain, so he'd walked away. Built up walls around her in his chest, tried to protect her from his negativity by removing himself.
Then she'd been in front of him. Nowhere to hide from her big blue eyes. So sad as she looked up at him. So soft and gentle and beautiful. So hurt. He couldn't handle that kind of pain.
So he'd ripped out that garden, right out of his chest. Thrown it in her face. He knew what was best for her, even if she didn't, and he would make her see the light. He would make her hate him.
Problem was, when something took up root, those roots stayed behind. Each step he'd taken away from her, those roots had pulled tighter and tighter. Stretched to their limit. By the time he'd left the building, each one had snapped clean in half. The dying rootstock festered in his chest, poisoning him. Making him want to throw up.
I make myself sick.
He only had himself to blame. She'd been a plaything – he'd even told her “... my own personal fuck toy ...” and he'd meant it. Pity he hadn't listened to himself. While he'd been playing his game, he'd been sharing so many moments with her. Growing something wonderful with her. He remembered having lunches with her, sitting by street carts and laughing with each other. Sitting on her bed, getting a manicure and discussing dreams. Sitting in his conference room, telling her he never took anyone to his home – though all the while, he'd been planning on taking her there.
He dropped his head and stared at his floor. He'd given her more than enough reasons to hate him. To never want to see him again. Their little food fight had worked much better than his silent treatment ever could have – had gone better than anything he could've planned.
Good for Katya, that she would be able to let him go. He could do that much for her.
Wulf, however, was going to bear the pain of losing her for a very long time.
This is for the best. This is for her. After all the things you've done to her, you certainly don't deserve to keep her. You're Wulfric Stone, and stones don't love.
22
Katya stood in her apartment for all of two seconds while she mulled over her options. She could call Tori, beg her to come home. Call her mother, beg her to come get her. Call Liam and just sob incoherently. Or just take a shower and forget Wulfric Stone ever existed.
She went with option five – she grabbed the vodka out of the freezer and went straight up to the roof. She sat down and put her feet in the kiddie pool, chugging the alcohol straight from the bottle. She raked her hands through her hair, not caring that she was spreading more of the cake into the strands, and yanked everything up into a ponytail. Then she scooted off the sofa and sat directly in the pool. While completely dressed. She propped up her knees and wrapped her arms loosely around them, staring off into the distance while sipping at her booze.
She wasn't sure how much time passed before she heard the lock jiggling in the door. Enough that she'd polished off maybe a quarter of the bottle or so. Not enough to dull the pain. She sighed as Liam strolled across the roof top, but she didn't look at him.
“You alright, angel cake?” he sighed, coming to a stop at the edge of the pool.
“Peachy keen. How'd you find me?”
“I knew you'd be here. This is our special spot.”
The sentiment just depressed her more and she took another swig of alcohol.
“Did Tori send you?” she asked. He squatted down low, rubbing his hand up and down her thigh, getting cake on his fingers.
“Your boss called her,” he said by way of an answer.
“Oh great. I'm sure they're just thrilled with me.”
“She said they sounded concerned.”
“And you? Are you concerned?”
“Always.”
He stood up and shrugged out of his jacket, toed off his shoes, then climbed into the pool with her. They moved around – he was so lanky, his legs took up a lot of room. Finally, she was back in her position with her legs bent, sitting with his knees on the outside of hers.
“Thanks,” she sighed, offering him her bottle. He took it, watching her as he threw his head back and took a healthy shot.
“Wanna have angry sex? Might make you feel better.”
“No thanks.”
“Sorry, bad joke.”
“No,” she groaned, letting her head fall forward. “It was a good joke. You're so … so good to me, Liam.”
She couldn't help it. She sniffled and watched as a tear fell onto her pant leg.
“I told you, say that shit softly, it'll ruin my reputation if it gets out,” he teased her.
“He was so awful,” she suddenly whispered.
“He was?”
“God, the things he said. He was … hurtful. He said things just to hurt. Why? I don't get it. I didn't do anything to him. I was standing there, and he just kept lashing me. He wouldn't stop. Why? What did I do to deserve that?” she cried, pressing her face into her jeans. She felt Liam's hand on the back of her head, smoothing over her ponytail.
“Nothing. Nothing, Katya. He's an asshole. He's such a dick, and he doesn't deserve to even breathe the same air as you. Do not take any of this on yourself,” he urged.
Easy for Liam to say. The things Wulf had said, the things he'd implied. Did he really think those things about her? Did he really feel that way? He'd laughed at her. Laughed, because she was stupid enough to think they were something special. To think she was something to special.