Page 69 of As the World Falls

James

It’s been one week. One week since Cecilia walked into my office. One week since I got to see how she does that hair of hers. One week since I heard her quips, and one week since I felt her lips on mine and discovered what she tasted like.

Either I was going mad, or I was missing her. I felt like a fool because this wasn’t me. I didn’t miss women, especially ones like her, that I had no business missing.

Putting a stop to things was all for the best, however. I was feeling things for her, which is the most I’ve ever felt in my entire life. It was terrifying as much as it was dangerous. She didn’t need to be any more a part of my life than she has been. It was honestly stupid of me to want her at all, but I’ve realized I didn’t make the best decisions around her, and resisting her was next to impossible. She didn’t belong in my life, and Tobias didn’t want her a part of this side of his either. It was all a sign for me to stay the hell away and let sleeping dogs lie, or whatever the hell it is they say.

Except two hours later, I’m getting off my private jet and into my car to head to Stone Corridor. I wasn’t going to get any workdone if I didn’t see her just one more time. I couldn’t let that night at Underground be our last encounter.

I walked into the library, finding it suspiciously empty. It was only a little after two in the afternoon, and it was a sunnier autumn day outside. I expected there to be more people out and about.

My gaze flits to her desk, and I don’t see her there. I feel a dropping sensation in my chest that makes me want to pound my fists against it. I hated all these new sensations, like disappointment and anticipation. It was enough to make a man go bloody insane.

I walk deeper inside, and it’s then I hear a faint chattering. I follow the noise, taking me deeper toward the back of the library, where I notice the paint color on the walls change from an old off-white to a bright grass green. The shelves looked slightly newer, and the books were more colorful. There were also shelves with things like toys and knick-knacks along them. Rainbows, clouds, and flowers were painted on the walls, too, the more I looked around.

I realize I’m in the children’s section, and I go to turn back when I hear the noise again. Realizing it’s Cecilia’s lulling voice, I walk around one more shelf, where I stop behind a crowd of parents watching their children sit on the floor in a circle. Cecilia sits in front of them on a small beanbag chair, reading a book about some happy whale.

Her voice was more expressive and enthusiastic than I’d ever heard, and I couldn’t help but smile in amusement as I watched her read to the children, her blue eyes wide with creativity as she read the story to them.

Her hair was tied into a bun on top of her head, and she was wearing a light-yellow dress with red, pink, and white horizontal stripes going down the entirety of it and a long pink cardigan over top of it. Her chunky white sneakers were pokingout beneath the hem of her dress, and it had me comparing the difference in her now to how she dressed for work at my office.

She looked so much younger now in front of me, and I felt a little sick at the reminder of our age gap. I was over ten years older than her, and it was showing badly now with her colorful ensemble and easier connection to children. I didn’t particularly like children, nor did I ever want the responsibility of constantly showing up for one.

I feel stupid for coming here. She was obviously back in her element and doing just fine. I should be back in mine, which is a far cry from hers, further proving my point. We are two very different people, and I had no business being here.

I turn to leave just as she closes the book, smiling at all the children around her, when her eyes look up and instantly lock onto me. Her smile falters, and I try to tell myself it was a good thing. I want her to dislike me, and I want to dislike her. I needed to remind her just how horrible I was, if only to make me quit wanting her. I wasn’t sure it worked that way, but I could try.

Cecilia says her goodbyes to the children and has short conversations with their parents as I stalk around the library, never straying too far from her as I wait for her to finish up. When she’s finally alone, I stick my hands in my pockets and stride toward her, noting how she holds the children’s book tightly against her chest like a shield.

“Hi, babe,” I greet her.

She sighs and meets my gaze with her irritable one. “What are you doing here?”

Her usual cattiness never fails to make me smile. “I thought you’d have missed me.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” She brushes past me, and I follow behind her as she makes her way two shelves over and slides the book back into its spot.

“I’m not so sure about that,” I counter as she quickly tries to walk away from me, heading to her desk.

She leans one arm onto her desk, glaring at me. “What do you want, James? I have work to do.”

“I came to let you know that you’re fired,” I find myself saying, feeling defensive.

She doesn’t respond right away, and after a minute, a tiny giggle bubbles out of her. “Seriously? You came all the way here to tell me that?”

“No,” I reply, but before continuing my charade, I notice a small cut surrounded by a faded bruise on her cheek. “What happened to your face?” I immediately ask, staring at the mark.

She only rolled her eyes like it was no big deal when I was already planning if I had to set my evening aside to remind someone they severely fucked up.

“It’s nothing. It’s just a scratch. It’s pretty much healed now.” I think the deep red cut and yellow-to-purple bruise around it said otherwise. It was apparent she was trying to hide most of it with makeup, so God knows what it looks like bare.

“Babe,” I force politely, attempting a smile, but I could feel my eyes betraying the murderous streak I was feeling course through me. “Who did this to you?”

Her eyes slowly drag to meet mine. “Who said someone did it to me? Maybe I did it to myself by accident.”

“You wouldn’t be avoiding the question if that were the case. Who hurt you?” I was becoming angrier by the second, and if she didn’t answer me soon, I would also become irrational, which didn’t particularly mix well with anger.

She huffs out an irritated breath. “It was my Dad’s wife, okay? It’s not a big deal, and Tobias already lost his shit on her over it, so just let it go, okay? I don’t want to keep being reminded of it.”

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