Page 40 of Signs and Signals

“He did come by a couple of times, but I didn’t buzz him up. I just waited in my room, listening to the sound of the buzzer and the muffle of his voice. He couldn’t call me because I blocked him immediately after messaging him. Maybe he just didn’t love me like he thought he did. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to be a father figure to Haven, even though I would never have pushed that on him. I don’t know, Amara. That is something only Atlas could answer.”

The buzzer sounds and Amara goes to answer it, the voice on the other side freezes me where I stand. Samantha. Atlas’s mother. What the actual fuck is she doing here?

Amara gives me a questioning look, asking if she should let her up, regrettably, I nod yes. Moments later there is a knock at the door.

Samantha is sitting on the very edge of the sectional, as she looks around our home, she seems almost offended, yet disgusted.Well, fuck you too, Samantha.

“I just wanted to drop by to give an invitation to a party we are hosting. Since you didn't get to enjoy the gala, I thought this could make up for it.”

She reaches into her oversized designer bag and pulls out an envelope that looks just as expensive as her purse. The envelope is thick, with a luxurious texture that hints at its contents.

“It is being held at our vineyard. It will be a beautiful backdrop for the entire event, but I must be going. I am going out of town, and I have a lot of work to get done,” Samantha says, her voice hurried as she rushes out the door, barely giving us a chance to respond.

“Open it up, I want to see what kind of shindig she is throwing this time,” Amara says, her curiosity piqued.

I open the envelope and pull out the invitation. The paper is heavy and embossed, exuding elegance. As soon as I see what type of invitation it is, all the blood drains from my face. My hands start to tremble, and my vision blurs. The room spins, and I feel a cold sweat break out on my forehead. All I hear before I pass out is Amara’s voice, saying, “Is that bitch serious? Indya are you—"

Chapter Eighteen

Atlas

Two weeks later

I’m lost. I’m broken. I am no longer whole. When I received the text from Indya, at first, I was confused. What was she talking about, she hopes I’m happy with Mallory. What the actual fuck. She knows how I feel about her, she has seen my reaction to Mallory in person. I have no clue what the fuck is going on. All I know is I feel as though my soul has been ripped from my body.

“You good, bro?” Simms asks me as we are leaving the training room. “You seem off lately.”

“Indya broke up with me. She sent me a text and pretty much destroyed my world. It has been a little over a month since she sent that message, I am at a loss,” I shake my head, still trying to find the solution.

“Did you respond to her after you read it? You know, ask her to clarify?” Simms looks just as confused as I am. But I shake my head no.

“She blocked my number as soon as she sent it, because I couldn’t get the message to go through, then I tried to call, and yeah, she blocked me. I tried going to her apartment multipletimes, but she wouldn't buzz me in. When I did get buzzed in and knocked on the door, no one ever answered.”

Simms must not know what to say to make me feel better or to help me understand, because now he isn’t saying anything. He looks like he is lost in thought.

“Have you tried to reach out to her friend or siblings? Maybe they know what is going on, and they can explain it to you.”

Again, I shake my head no, she asked me not to reach out to her and I did anyway, I only have her brother, Silas's phone number and when I spoke to him, he told me just to give her time like she asked for. I saw Amara out with friends over the weekend, and I pussied out going to talk to her. It could have been the death stare she was shooting my way.

Not only is my heart shattered, which I have never experienced before, but my head is a mess. I thought everything was going well, we have both been so busy I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to her much about my parents visit.

“Oh, fuck, man. No wonder she is pissed. I would be too if I had to look at this shit online. Do you think she read the article from In the Know magazine? Because if she did and it is the reason she dumped your sorry ass and then ghosted you, I don't blame her one bit,” Simms says as he looks up from his phone.

I don’t respond, I just snatched his phone from his hand, and scroll back to the top of the article he was just reading.

There is a picture of mom, dad, Mallory, and me exiting a restaurant in Portland. The same place we had dinner when they came to see me play. The differences between this photo and the night we had dinner a little over two months ago, is Mallory was not there this time, and we are definitely never rekindling anything. Before I let my anger get the best of me, I scroll towhere the author of the article is listed and guess the fuck who it is? James. That piece of slimy shit.

“I have to make some calls,” I tell Simms, leaving him standing in the middle of the hall. No wonder I am so fucking confused as to why everything happened, it was all a ploy. Everyone knows I don't read anything any of the magazines or news outlets say about me. Ever since everything went down with Mallory, I steer clear of anything attached to my name. Heads are going to fucking roll for this shit. Starting with bitch-boy James.

Stepping into the building where the In the Know magazine is located, I follow the signs and elevator to the eighth floor. As soon as the doors open, I step through, heading straight for the young girl at the reception desk. Her eyes wide and mouth agape, I waste no time asking where I can find James.

“Uh, yeah—he, uh, second door on the left. Um, is he expecting you, Mr. Kensington, sir?” She stutters out, but I give her no response. I turn and make my way to his office.

Office is a loose term; it is more like a room with about five cubicles shoved in the small space. I see Joey, tucked in the corner with what looks like a third of space than what everyone else has, and give her a nod, when she jerks her head in the direction I need to find the asshole.

“Of course, I will make sure all the facts are in the article. Here at In the Know, we pride ourselves on getting real, factual stories,” James says into his phone while writing something down on a yellow papered legal pad. I roll my eyes, because he is full of shit.

I don’t wait until he is off the phone before making my presence known.“What the fuck did we talk about when I last saw you, James?”

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