Page 21 of Sins of Bliss
He ends the call, and I’m left sitting on my bed in confusion. Years of friendship, yet I hadn’t expected this reaction from him. Sully is happy-go-lucky. Everything rolls off his back. He’s funny and light-hearted.
I truly hurt him by leaving.
When Vinnie hadn’t shown up at our meeting spot, the only thing I could think about was my broken heart and the feeling of betrayal. I never stopped to consider how my loved ones would feel about my leaving.
I ran away without further consideration of those around me. The errors of my ways flash through my mind like a neon sign and I realize how selfish my behavior was.
Returning to New York is no longer a question in my mind. I must go. Ridgewood has been my salvation, but it’s time for me to leave, as difficult as it may be. I just need to fulfill my promise to Nixon and help him plan his cousin's funeral first.
Then I need to figure out how to say goodbye to the friends who have become my family.
Chapter 8
Vinnie
My stomach rumbles as I look at the grab-and-go options at the upscale market, Fraîche. Practically drooling over every choice, I find it difficult to make a decision on what to eat, even though I’m starving. I left my office early today; my afternoon meeting was canceled, so I decided to take the rest of the afternoon off.
I wanted to go home—tomyhome—and have a few hours of peace before I ended up back at August’s penthouse. But first, I stopped for something to eat. It didn’t feel right to go home and eat all the food Cecilia had stocked up on for herself, so here I am, perusing the options and struggling to make a decision.
It’s been a week since I returned from Ridgewood. A week since August took his anger out on me for leaving. Internally, my ribs are still bruised. Every motion I make sends a zing of pain through my body and causes me to grit my teeth. Walking hurts. Sleeping hurts. And forget about laughing.
But it’s not like I've been doing too much of that lately.
Externally, a large yellow bruise spans my left side. The physical evidence of where August kicked me, hidden from sight. But the memory still haunts me.
Slowly, I make my way to the salad bar and am impressed with how it looks, so I decide to make one. Picking up a box to build it in, a few fall after being stuck together. I groan, already feeling the pain that’s about to shoot through me.
My jaw clenches as I bend, reaching for the boxes on the floor. I suck in a sharp breath between my teeth as my body screams in protest.
“Here, let me help,” a smooth, strong voice says behind me. From where I’m bent, I look over and see the face of a man I haven’t seen in months, and surprise runs through me.
“Sullivan?”
He gives me a lopsided grin as he bends to reach for the box I haven’t picked up yet.
“Hey, Paladino.” As he straightens, his eyes dart to where I can feel my blouse has ridden up slightly, and I quickly pull it back in place, praying the bruise didn’t peek through. “Please, call me Sully.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, suddenly feeling frantic and full of nerves.
Sullivan Rochester is Sly’s best friend. Or at least, he was. I’m not sure if he’s been in touch with Sly since he left. Other than at the occasional charity gala, our paths never cross. Seeing Sully like this so soon after going to Ridgewood, my mind immediately questions whether Sly sent him or if this is truly a coincidence.
Sully shrugs, holding up a box of organic cereal in his hand, and giving it a shake. “Same thing as you are, I suppose?”
A nervous laugh bubbles past my lips. “Oh. Yeah. Yes, of course.”
Lifting my hand, I play with my locket—something I’ve found myself doing more and more of lately. It’s becoming a nervous habit.
Sully tracks my movement, and for the briefest of moments, I see his eyes narrow before they bounce back to mine, and he grins again. “How are you doing?”
His question freezes me in place. The context of it could span so many facets, and my brain goes blank, unable to conjure a simple answer.
How am I doing…mentally?
Physically?
Emotionally?
Since Sly’s been gone?
