Page 62 of Gilded Fake

She gives me an incredulous look. “It’s my apartment.”

I glance around. “Yeah, a pretty nice one too. Plenty of room for me.”

She snorts into the tissue as she blows her nose. “What, you’re going to live here?”

“Nah, I’ll go home eventually.”

“When?”

“When I’m done.”

“Done proving you can do whatever the fuck you want whether I want to or not?” she asks bitterly, balling the tissue in her fist.

“No,” I say. “When I’m done taking care of you.”

“I don’t need you to—”

“I know,” I say. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to.”

I head into her kitchen, ignoring her calling after me, asking what I’m doing. I find a pan and some cans in the pantry. When I’m done, I carry a bowl into her room. She’s kicked all the underwear off the bed and is lying there with the sheet tucked under her arms, staring up at the ceiling.

“What the fuck?” she asks when I set the bowl down. “You made me chicken soup? I’m not sick.”

“Chill, I just opened a can,” I say. “If you want the chef in the family, you’ll have to date Preston.”

“I don’t have to date anyone in your family.”

“Here,” I say, handing her an ice pack I found in the freezer and a bottle of ibuprofen from a drawer in the bathroom. “Get comfortable before you eat.”

“You’re insane.”

“Probably all the blows to the head I’ve taken.”

“Why are you doing this?”

I shrug. “I didn’t know you told Maverick you weren’t into that.”

She winces as she puts the ice pack under the sheet and places it where she wants it. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to go around telling anyone you hurt me.”

“Did I?”

She picks up the soup, staring into it and stirring her spoon around slowly. “Yeah,” she whispers. “You did.”

My chest caves in on itself, and I sink onto the edge of the bed and take her hand. “I’m sorry, Lo. I never meant… I never would have… God, this is so fucked.”

“It’s unnecessary,” she says. “This is all unnecessary. I’ve done worse to you—a lot worse. You don’t have to take care of me because you feel guilty. Maybe I didn’t want to, but it’s not like I was fighting you off. I guess you didn’t know, and that’s… Whatever. Even if you had known, I wouldn’t be filing a police report or spreading rumors at school. I know how believable I am.”

“That’s fucked up, Gloria.”

She shrugs and pulls her hand from mine, taking a small bite of soup. “It’s the truth, though. Same with the Dolces. Same with Rylan.”

“You didn’t want to fuck Rylan?” I ask. “Why? He was your boyfriend.”

“It’s complicated,” she says with a sigh, setting her bowl aside. “I think I loved the idea of him, but the reality… Sucked, to be honest. And even if he’d been the perfect boyfriend, I don’t think I could have loved him anymore. I was already in love with someone else.”

She pulls her knees up and wraps her arms around them, on top of the sheet.

“Lo…” I reach for her, scooting over and slowly winding a strand of hair behind her ear. “Look at me.”

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