I reach down to stroke his hair off his forehead but stop after one pass. I don’t want to touch him like that. It’s his fault for wearing that goddamn cage. Otherwise, he could have an orgasm like a normal person. Fucking masochist.
Once he’s done, I remove the soiled liner from the small binand take it out of the room, double bagging it before shoving it into the kitchen trash. I wash my hands in the sink before splashing some cold water on my face. Somehow during all that I went from shivering to sweating.
I find him in the bathroom when I return. He winces as he bends down to pull up his pants.
He looks up at me, startled, and his green eyes catch me like a glue trap. The ghost of the love we once shared flickers like a faint shimmer in my chest. I don’t speak, and he doesn’t either. Instead, I turn away, opening my dresser and pulling out a pair of sweats. I get dressed while he does, hoping he’ll leave once he’s done.
I don’t trust myself with him.Heshouldn’t trust me. But neither of us seems to have the slightest clue how to protect ourselves from each other. It’s surreal—him being here. There’s a normalcy and familiarity to his presence that beckons me, wanting me to feel comfortable. But beneath all that is just—nothing. Emptiness.
Loss.
I put my hand on the edge of the dresser, close my eyes and take a deep breath to keep from breaking down. This never had to happen. I would have stood by him through anything. Loved him no matter what. But this is all we are now, and it’s fucking devastating.
“I need you to go,” I call out.
His hand touches my back, and I jump nearly a foot away, whirling to face him with both palms up to keep him off.
“Silas, please?—”
“No. No, no.” I shake my head, pointing at the door, not wanting to hear it and willing to go to great lengths to avoid listening to one more word.
Resolution sets his features, and my eyes narrow to a glare.
He’s not leaving.
54
GRAHAM
“Ididn’t come here for Avery,” I tell Silas, willing my voice to stay steady.
“I don’t give a shit why you’re here. I need you to go. Now.”
I did that last time, and the time before, and we wound up right back here, so no. We’re talking. I need to make this right. With words or money or if I have to open a fucking vein.
I can survive knowing he hates me—he has every right to, but unlike the day in the Hamptons, his pain is screaming at me—even if he won’t.
And I can’t live with that.
“I understand you’re angry, Silas. I’m not trying to talk you out of that. I’m just asking you to point your gun at me—not Avery. She’s got nothing to do with this.”
He scoffs. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll exhaust all legal avenues before I try the illegal ones. I like to think I still have a shred of integrity.”
“Then why aren’t you suing me?”
“Are you serious? How? That wasn’t you—remember?”
Okay, I get it. “Is that what pissed you off? The AI thing?”
“The AIthing?Do you mean that time you dumped me, hung me out to dry, and fed me to the press for lunch?”
“My father?—”
“Fuck your father!” he shouts. “And fuckyoufor not having the balls to stand up to an old man who’d sell you to the highest bidder if it got him a friend on the Supreme Court.”
I take that hit. He doesn’t know my father, and I can see why it looks like that from his angle.
“Fine,” I say, taking a step back to give him some space. “Tell me what will make this right.”