Page 93 of Dream Girl Drama

She closed her eyes, instead of meeting the look he sent her. Would she no longer make eye contact? Out of shame? The possibility caused an ice pick to lodge in his jugular. “No. He’s been on the road. I haven’t seen him.”

“Ah, very well. Maybe he’s just sleeping in with his ringer off.” Then, quieter, “Don’t worry, dear, we’ll get in touch with him before the day is over.”

Chloe shifted right to left, still with her eyes squeezed shut. “I need to get off the phone now. But... congratulations. Enjoy Vegas and we’ll speak when you come back.”

“Thank you, dear! Kisses! Bye!”

When the call ended, the silence that followed was thicker than anything he’d ever heard. No sound. No horns, no doors opening and closing in the hallway, no floorboards creaking overhead. Nothing. Maybe his senses could only handle the abundance of shock and nothing else.

I failed.

It’s over.

Chloe was lost to him. Gone.

Had he done everything in his power to sway the outcome of this? Without committing a felony? He had, right? Maybe this moment had always been inevitable. But it was also in this moment that he realized how deep his feelings ran for Chloe, because he still wanted to physically drag her into bed and throw up his middle finger at the universe.

He also loved her way too much to ruin her life.

To cost her that first chair with the symphony.

To drag her into a worse tabloid scandal than he already had.

Furthermore, being her provider was no longer an option and she’d need her mother going forward. She’d need the safety net of Darien now more than ever.

And so, when she made a choked sound, ran into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind her, Sig strode blindly out of the apartment, down the stairs and out of the building, his heart deadening a little more in his chest with every step he took.

CHLOE EXISTED INa disturbing state of calm.

If she moved too quickly or allowed what-ifs to start pouring in, she would crumble. So she didn’t. She didn’t walk too fast or slow, she stayed at a medium pace, one foot in front of the other. She nodded when necessary. Gave appropriate responses to the barista at the coffee shop, said hello to Raymond on her way out of the building, while heading to Grace’s.

Being in a funnel of people sounded like the worst possible scenario when she was more fragile than a glass figurine, but she took the train, nonetheless. Maybe she was hoping to be distracted or get sucked into a cacophony of motion. Whatever the reason, she went. And she held it together, dammit. Even when a tourist asked Chloe for directions and she realized,holy shit, I’m officially a Bostonianand immediately she reached for her phone to text Sig her amusement over that fact, she managed to keep her cool.

No more tears.

They wouldn’t solve anything.

But it was impossible to ignore the fact that something inside of her was irrevocably broken. A light had gone out inside of her and she knew in her bones, the electrical lines had been cut. Inother words, that light would never shine again. Not this particular one.

The one that had lit the corner of the world she shared only with Sig.

Something must come of this. Something good has to happen now.

If one tragedy begets another, she would abandon her calm and start burning down cities, one by one. There had to be a purpose here. There had to be a reason she’d met her soulmate only to have him taken away. This had to mean something, right?

She raised her hand to knock on Grace’s door with no memory of the journey to reach it. Nor did she remember speaking to the doorman downstairs. Wouldn’t he have buzzed Grace to let her know Chloe had arrived?

Yes.

That’s why the door is already open.

Ordering herself to get it together, Chloe pushed into the penthouse, looking around for her mentor while hanging up her coat, a movement that taxed her in ways it shouldn’t. It strained her arms, her neck, her insides.Just keep moving. Slow and steady.

The sound of footsteps approached from the rear hallway—and they were accompanied by the rolling of wheels. A second later, Chloe caught sight of the source. Grace strode into view wheeling a Louis Vuitton suitcase, a metallic gold neck pillow hanging from the handle.

Grace raised an eyebrow. “Why aren’t you practicing? Time is in short supply.”

“Why do you have luggage? Where are you going?”

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