Brazen Bachelor

I don’t know how long I sit in the bathroom stall, but by the time I step out and wash my face, all my tears have run dry, and anger has taken the place of sadness.

25

Colton

Guilt is a heavy burden to bear. It’s a heavy emotion to carry, and I have it all in my chest. As we touch down at JFK, I’m anxious because I need to talk to Violet. After the meeting I just got out of, she’s going to need to hear this from me before anyone else.

I turn on my phone as we head through the airport with Brianna beside me. She’s pretty, a nice girl, but she’s not who I want. And I need to make sure Violet knows that before the press get a hold of the photo stills from the producer. I’ve learned firsthand how this bullshit can spiral.

Perhaps I should have told her on the call, but I couldn’t, and she has to understand I was being dragged from one corner to the next. But something tells me Violet will be harder to convince than anyone I’ve ever come across. She’s broken, I see it in her eyes, but she’s also strong, and I pray that strength shines through, and she sees my honesty.

“See you tomorrow, Bachelor,” Brianna tells me the moment we reach our town cars.

“Yeah, see you,” I farewell, but before she walks away, she leans in to kiss me on the lips as the flashes go off, blinding me. But they don’t see me push her away, and they certainly don’t capture my grunt of, “What the fuck was that, Bri?”

“I was just giving them what they came for,” she retorts with a grin before swaying her hips as she walks to her car. I slide into the backseat, needing to hide away.

I unlock my screen, finding twenty messages from Blythe warning me not to contact Violet, but I ignore them and tap call on her number anyway. It rings, and rings, and rings. Finally, I’m sent to voicemail, so I end the call and try again.

In my gut, I know something is wrong, but in my mind, I convince myself she’s perhaps in the shower, or maybe she’s collecting her dinner and forgot her phone at home. But when I’m sent to voicemail once more, I know in my heart she knows.

She’s heard the news.

And it wasn’t from me. It was from my agent who would’ve delivered my death notice with a smile on her face. I tell the driver where to take me—Violet’s apartment.

I have to fix this. One way or another.

By the time we reach the apartment block, I’ve tried calling Violet ten times. Each time, it’s gone straight to voicemail. I’m out of the car before it parks, shoving the door open, racing by the doorman who recognizes me and waves me off.

In the elevator, I’m trying to figure out what to say to her, how to explain why I didn’t tell her the truth, but nothing makes sense. Nothing I say will make it okay. When I reach Violet’s door, my hand shakes when I clench it into a fist and knock.

For a moment, I’m sure she’s not going to answer, but the door swings open. Her eyes are red, and her face is blotchy, no doubt from crying.

“What do you want, Colton?” Violet questions. The agonizing anger apparent in her tone makes my chest tighten. I want nothing more than to hold her, but if I said that, she’d only scoff.

“I needed to tell you about the meeting I had with the producers,” I answer, but the look in her eyes tells me she wants nothing to do with me. “Violet, just give me a chance to explain.”

“You had ample time to explain. If Blythe and Clarissa could sit me down and talk to me about what the plan was, you could have as well.”

Dropping my head, I lean against the cool wooden door. “I can’t tell you why I didn’t admit it when we spoke, but I’m here now, and I need you to listen to me. Please?” My plea takes time to work its magic, but after a few moments, Violet opens the door, and I’m allowed inside her apartment.

We settle on her couch. She doesn’t offer me anything to drink, merely stares at me as if I were on stage. A show to watch and wait for the plot twist.

“I was in and out of meetings, and when they called me in and told me, I called you immediately. The moment I stepped out of the room, I knew I needed to talk to you. It’s not something I wanted, and I told you the night we had our dinner, I don’t want anyone else.”

“Colton, I spent my life being afraid of the heartache and pain that comes with allowing someone into my life.” I can hear the sadness in her tone, the resignation that this is over, but until she utters those words, I don’t allow myself to believe it. “I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt.”