Page 9 of Forever & Always You
He’s only a month older than me, but he’s so .?.?.grown.A mature adult with his shit together. A far cry from whateversorry state I’m currently in. The confident, refined way he speaks quite frankly makes me question whether my own mental growth has been stunted in some way. My vocabulary extends to curse words and sarcasm and nothing more.
“Oh, um, that’s okay. I believe you,” I say, because obviously I did not come here for actual financial advice. Nervously, I play with the ends of my hair and wonder if maybe he’d recognize me if my hair was pin-straight and still severely damaged from taking a hot iron through it every day before school. I haven’t tamed my natural blond curls in .?.?. well, too long. My hair is wild and full of too much volume, but I’ve been rocking the low maintenance look for a while now. Mascara is about as much makeup as I’ll ever wear these days. “I have some money I’m not sure what’s best to do with. Can you help?”
“I can talk you through our client agreement and devise a comprehensive financial plan based on both your short- and long-term goals if working with us is something you’d be interested in. Roughly what kind of figures are we dealing with?” Austin questions, sitting forward, hovering a ballpoint pen over a notepad.
I think of my checking account and fight the heat that blazes across my cheeks. “Eight hundred bucks and some change.”
Austin’s right eyebrow arches. He sets his pen down and sits back in his chair, interlinking his hands together on the desk. “Unfortunately, we only work with clients who have an investment portfolio of at least half a million. I’m not going to be of much use to you, but your bank can help get you started with a simple savings account.”
He rises from his chair, buttons his suit jacket again.
Oh, shoot. He’s going to ask me to leave. Panic floods through me and I jump to my feet, pressing my hands down on his desk, willing his eyes to meet mine.
“Austin,” I say, my voice cracking.
His blue eyes narrow with the weight of a thousand unspoken words as he presses his hands against the other side of the desk to mirror me. Challengingly, he says, “Gabrielle.”
My jaw slackens. The sound of my name on his lips is like a punch to the gut.
“What the fuck? You knew all along?”
Austin cocks his head to the side, all the warmth in his features replaced with that darkening sense of contempt I’d been so prepared for. “Carly Buck. Really?” He snorts, and I feel rage bubbling inside of me over the game he’s just played. “I don’t know why you’re here, Gabrielle, and I certainly don’t give a fuck, either. Eight hundred bucks to invest? C’mon. You’re missing some zeros there. Quit wasting my time.”
He moves to the door, swinging it open and standing back. His demeanor has made such a one-eighty, it’s giving me whiplash.
“Austin, please, I’m not here to mess with you,” I beg, remaining rooted by the desk. He’ll have to drag me out of here before I leave willingly. I’m committed now, and I’ll be damned if I’m leaving here without forcing my apology down his throat.
Austin sighs with indifference, like I’m merely a minor inconvenience in his day. “Get out, Gabby.”
The way he saysGabbydoes painful things to my chest. I was always his Gabby. My full name was only ever used for formalities, like pinky promises and signing that silly little contract.
“Close the door. Give me five minutes,” I plead, physically begging with my hands. “Five minutes,Austin, and after that, I’ll walk out of here and you’ll never see me again. I promise.”
He can’t feign detachment anymore, because now the emotion sets in and the betrayal of the past flashes across his face like a scar. “Your promises mean nothing.”
My guilt is so pronounced it may as well be acid burning myinsides. “Austin .?.?.”
Jaw clenched tight, he pushes the door open even wider. “Gabrielle, I mean it. Get out of my office before I really lose it here.”
This is a disaster. It’s very apparent that after seven years, the dust has settled. I shouldn’t have kicked it back up again, because Austin does not want my excuses and he certainly does not want my apologies. He wants me out of his office and out of his face.
“Okay,” I say in defeat, holding my hands up in surrender.
His eyes follow me across the office like a sniper locked in on its target, fierce and threatening, daring me to make one wrong move. But I get it. I shouldn’t have come.
I lower my head as I pass him and tension pulses in the small gap between us. It was far too optimistic of me to assume he’d ever want to hear another word come out of my mouth, so although I may not have achieved what I set out for, I take solace in knowing he’s doing great for himself. I didn’t fuck up his entire life and set him down a doomed path, I just ruined his high school experience—though even that is too much.
As I leave Austin behind, I pick up my pace. There’s a serious lack of oxygen in this building and I crave a gulp of fresh air. The fire escape is even more tempting this time around, but I propel myself down the hallway, hightailing it away from Austin.
As I sharply round the corner into the lobby, I clatter into something.
More specifically, Helen from the front desk.
We butt heads with a gasp, and in my haste to recoil, I trip over my own feet and promptly topple straight into the coffee table, a cascade of glass shattering around me.
4
I hate hospitals.
