Cruel Fortune (Cruel 2)

My mouth went dry. “You…orchestrated my appearance in New York.”

“It was already in the works. I just…told them to make it happen.”

“Did Gillian know?” I asked, remembering that moment of surprise on her face when he’d shown up.

“No. She didn’t know about any of my involvement. Her work with you was all her.”

“And you did it…so that you could see me.”

“I’ll admit to wanting to see you again. That was why I was so nervous when I saw you at the publishing house that day. But…I wanted you to have everything and more. I still do.”

I didn’t know what to think about that. On one hand, he’d done it all to see me. Which was charming, but also…it felt like I was a marionette on strings. He was the puppeteer, scheming to put things into place for me to be here with him.

On the other hand, his affection was genuine. And he’d been honest. He hadn’t lied and tried to hide behind what he’d done this time.

“And that’s…that’s it? There’s nothing else?”

He shook his head. “Just that. And I’ll have nothing to do with the new book. I swear.”

I nodded. My mind was abuzz with all of this new information. I didn’t know how I felt about it. Or what I should do with it. Whether I should be flattered or angry. All I knew for sure was that his heart was in the right place. He was a hundred percent earnest, standing there on the footsteps of Penn’s apartment. So, maybe he’d done the wrong thing for the right reasons.

“I think I need to go home,” I finally said.

“Let me take you.” He gestured to the door. “You shouldn’t walk through the park this late, alone.”

I sighed and took that first step. “Okay.”

I followed him out to his car and let him drive me back to my apartment. We were silent on the way there. I didn’t know what he was thinking. And I couldn’t process my night. I wanted to hold on to my fury for his lies. But he had come clean. I’d asked him to, and he’d admitted it.

The whole thing left me feeling triggered. After what had happened with the bet last year, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. And now, it had.

“I know that you’re still mad,” Lewis said once the car finally rolled to a stop, “but I swear, I did it all for you. I didn’t intend to hurt you. But, of course, my intentions don’t really matter when it comes down to it, and I see how this hurt you.” He reached for my hand, linking our fingers together. “Please, just give me the chance to prove to you that it won’t happen again.”

I stared into that face. That beautiful face. One that had lied to me. One that was trying to right the wrongs. One that had hurt me. One that had thought he was helping me. I saw the two sides. The dual nature of this hurt.

It would be easy to only see the negative. To think that he’d done this selfishly. To think he was a sickly and purely Upper East Side schemer. But that was my fear talking. That was the fear that I was being played all over again. That I was about to get screwed over spectacularly, and it was better to run from this than to stick it out. Than to give him another chance.

And I was so tired of living with that fear. What he’d done wasn’t like the bet. It hadn’t been to hurt me. It had been to help me. If in a roundabout way.

Finally, slowly, I nodded. “Okay.”

He brought my fingers to his lips and kissed each of them. “Thank you. You won’t regret it.”

“Good,” I whispered. I slipped my hand out from his. “I’m going to go up now.”

“Care for some company?” he offered.

“I think…tonight, I should just be alone.”

“I could walk you up.”

“I’ll be fine,” I told him. When he looked unconvinced, I said, “We’ll be fine, too.” Then I stepped out of his car and walked into my building, more than ready to leave the entire night behind.

Penn

31

Lewis was a fucking idiot. Had he not learned a goddamn thing from my mistakes? Was he desperate to repeat them, just to prove that he could fuck up as monumentally as I had? Another thing he wanted to take the trophy for?

I couldn’t get the image of Natalie’s tear-splotched face from my mind. The broken way she’d caved in on herself at the realization that she’d been lied to again. The trap she’d fallen in so easily.

And I hadn’t even been able to be blunt about it. Either she wouldn’t have heard me or it would have hurt her more. I’d given her enough to figure it out on her own.