A Million Different Ways to Lose You (Horn Duet 2)

He’d been looking for me. Everything I thought to be true about Alek over the last six years had been wrong. My breathing grew rough and forced. I felt myself shaking but I wasn’t certain if it was just a figment of my imagination. I had to get out of there. Away from the truth, away from all the feelings pushing me over the edge. I’d been wrong about everything. My feet started moving quickly, rushing towards the door.

“I’m still in love with you. I never stopped loving you.” Ringing loud and clear, his words stopped me dead in my tracks.

When I turned around, he was already an arm’s length away and closing the distance quickly. His long-lashed, dark eyes roamed over my face, taking in every detail. Slowly, he reached out and ran his index finger in the hollow spot at the base of my throat. His touch felt plastic, a little clammy, stirring absolutely no feeling in me. Then, before I could stop him, he kissed me. He grabbed my face and held me in place as his lips fastened onto mine, his tongue a battering ram trying to push inside my mouth.

Memories came storming back with a vengeance. I had kissed this man in the same way a million times––and yet this time I felt absolutely nothing. His teeth sank into my bottom lip, drawing blood. The sting ripped me out of my mental wanderings and propelled me into action. With all my might, I pushed him off. Inadvertently, he’d helped me wash away the remains of any responsibility or loyalty I may have still harbored for him.

Then I said the words that I knew to be true in my heart. “I don’t love you anymore. I haven’t loved you in a long time. I love my husband. Go on with your life, Alek. I have.”

I opened the door and walked out. There was no need to look back. I heard the door close behind me. I wiped the blood with my thumb and licked the cut on my lip. The taste of my own blood, of my past, was bitter.

Closure…I’d gotten what I’d come for.

The resolution of my past, dissolving all the pain and blame I carried around for years, should have been cause for celebration. Unfortunately, the state of my marriage was causing me grief. We were at an impasse. And apparently I was married to an ox, because he wasn’t budging. Which meant I needed to make a move, or this could continue ad infinitum. I hadn’t spoken to him in a week…an excruciating week. I must’ve picked up that cellphone a thousand times to call him, however, I knew that if I didn’t stand my ground he would forever be riding roughshod over me. I’d fought, scraped, and struggled for every inch of my independence. I wasn’t about to willingly walk into a prison and hand the keys over to any man––even one that I was madly in love with. His impending birthday gave me the perfect opportunity to offer an olive branch and end this stalemate.

As soon as I stepped into Horn & Cie curious glances followed me throughout the building. I could count on one hand the times I’d been inside, and most of those times under inauspicious circumstances. Therefore it was not a surprise that the people that worked for him found me either a person of interest, or an oddity. One of his two executive assistants, two very sweet and thankfully very middle-aged ladies, kindly escorted me to his office, my heart thumping harder and faster with each step I took.

She knocked before she opened the solid maple door. I wondered if she could see how nervous I was. Inside I found him seated behind his desk, which at the moment seemed a million miles away from where I stood.

The navy suit he wore sharp as a blade, his jaw closely shaven, not a hair out of place. He made no move to get up or speak. He was as still and remote as the day I met him, an unbridgeable island. But man cannot exist alone…he should’ve known that by now.

His eyes roamed up and down the length of my body in an indifferent inspection, as if I were a business associate he was taking the measure of. Between the super intense examination and the silence, I didn’t know which was making me hotter––and not in a good way. Sweat blossomed over my upper lip. I tried to lick it away and failed.

“Happy birthday,” I said, walking to his desk.

Apparently he wanted to make this as painful as possible because his response to this was to continue with the lifeless stare. I was actually surprised by how cold he was being. Did he expect me to crawl on hands and knees and beg?