Now I was just as depressed as I had been at the start of the week, not that I’d made much progress to begin with.
“I think if you really can’t live without Calloway, you should give him what he wants. Because he’s gonna find some other woman to do it in a heartbeat.”
“I’m aware.”
“So that’s off the table?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Christopher finally dropped the subject. “You wanna get some ice cream? My treat.”
The last thing I wanted was food in my stomach. The only reason why I usually ate was because Christopher was force-feeding it to me. But after the admission that he sided with Calloway, I felt too stick to consume anything. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
9
Calloway
Instead of being distraught, I was numb.
In the back of my mind, I’d been expecting this relationship to crash and burn. That was probably why I wasn’t as devastated as last time. I’d anticipated the ending long before it actually happened.
Not that it made this any easier.
I worked from home for the first week, wanting to give Rome as much as space as possible. Having Isabella storm into her office like that must have been scarring. Having to listen to me correct and confess what I’d really done must have been worse.
I felt like shit.
Sometimes I questioned if I was doing the right thing. I knew how I felt about Rome, and I understood I would never feel this way for another woman as long as I lived. But I was walking away from her because my urges were too powerful. I’d been willing to compromise with her, to go half-and-half, but she wouldn’t meet me in the middle.
So I had to walk away.
Right now, I wasn’t ready to be with another woman. Isabella pissed me off, so I definitely wouldn’t be joining her in the playroom. I would have to let my heart bleed until there was nothing left. Once I had nothing left to give, perhaps I could start over and return to my previous life.
Even if it was lonely.
In the end, I chose sex and control over the woman I loved. It made her seem insignificant, unimportant. But that wasn’t how I felt. I just couldn’t control my urges any longer. If she didn’t give me what I needed, I would resent her and find it in some other way.
So it would never work.
My house felt more like a prison than a home. Her presence was everywhere. I smelled her scent from the cushions on the couch. A load of her laundry was still in the dryer because she forgot about it in her haste. A strand of hair sat in the bottom of the shower drain. A pair of her panties were still tucked in my drawer because she must have put them there by mistake.
Normally, I’d probably jerk off with them, but even that was too painful.
Where did I go from here?
I drank a lot. I drank during work and all through the night. I was always on the verge of being completely drunk, the perfect amount to where I was in control of my faculties and I was numb from the pain.
It was the only way I could exist.
Jackson called me at the end of the week, probably catching wind of what happened from Isabella. “Hmm?” I didn’t give him a warm greeting. Right now, I had nothing to live for.
“I should have known you would be drunk.”
“Any time I’m not drunk is a waste of time, if you ask me.” I was sitting at the kitchen table with the bottle of scotch right beside me. I didn’t even bother with a glass, even though I liked ice cubes in my drink.
“I guess I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay. It seems pretty clear.”
“You catch on quick,” I said sarcastically.
“So, she packed her things and left when Isabella threw you under the bus?”
“Not exactly.” I stared at the amber liquid right in front of me, feeling the smooth burn even though I didn’t take a drink. “Rome actually assumed Isabella was lying…because I would never do something like that. I corrected her.”
“Damn.”
“Her loyalty hurt more than anything else. I earned it, and then I lost it.”
“Yeah…but you could have lied.”
I wasn’t the lying type. “Not my style.”
“It almost seems like you wanted her to know.”
I dragged my hand down my face, grateful the migraine I had earlier finally disappeared. Every illness could be cured with a quality glass of scotch. “Yeah…I think I did too.” I wanted her to catch me, to understand how much I needed what she wouldn’t give me. I thought she would finally give me what I wanted when she knew she would lose me.
But that didn’t happen.
“You want Ruin back?” Jackson asked.
“I gave it to you, Jackson. The place is yours.”
“Come on, we both know I do a piss-poor job. I’m not cut out for it.”