My heart begins to pound as we near her house. I know it’s close because I have it plugged into the GPS on my phone—I don’t even trust cab drivers in my own country, let alone when I’m travelling.
God, I hope she’s happy to see me.
Not telling her I was coming was a huge fucking deal. Fuck, flying halfway across the world to see a woman is a huge deal. Because let’s face it: we all know the camp bullshit is just a cover, an excuse for me not to look like the desperate sap that I am.
The cab pulls up outside a brownstone house with a white picket fence. I glance around as I walk down the path, taking in the manicured gardens, the identical houses, and the wide, tree lined street. It was much nicer than I’d been expecting. The way she’d described it, it had sounded like the ghetto.
I take a deep breath and knock on the heavy wooden door.
It opens and there she is. My heart races as I stand there, waiting for her to say something. Her eyes widen in shock, but not the good kind. She’s terrified. I’m confused, because this is not the reaction I’d been playing over in my mind.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice is low. She’s trembling as she steps forward and pulls the door over, blocking my view inside.
I’m so stunned I don’t even know how to answer. “I…I wanted to surprise you.” I feel like an idiot, because it’s obvious I’m not welcome. She is not happy to see me.
“You need to leave. Now,” she hisses. Her green eyes are glassy, like she’s been crying.
I can’t figure this out. I feel like I’m missing some major piece of the puzzle. “What the hell is going on, Scarlett?” I ask, confused.
What the fuck is this?
“Who is it, Scar?” a voice calls out. A male voice.
Her eyes meet mine just as a tall, clean-shaven man walks up and wraps his arm around her waist. My jaw twitches as he kisses her on the cheek and she lets him.
My eyes meet hers and I laugh. She’s about to burst into tears and I find that fucking hilarious. She’s fucking upset? I shake my head, trying to control my rage. I feel so fucking betrayed. I’m beyond angry. I’m fucking livid.
“Nobody,” I mutter. I laugh and run my hand through my hair.
This is un-fucking-believable.
I shake my head and turn to walk down the footpath. I turn around and look at her one last time. “I’m just a guy trying to sell something she obviously doesn’t want.”