Page 68 of Fire
But I didn’t do either of those things. No, I stayed on the phone and listened as he berated me for my childish behavior, reminding me that I asked for this and that all this negative attention was my fault. He didn’t ask for a divorce after all. I did.
Are you trying to make me jealous, Zara? Is that what this little stunt is all about?
Thestunthe was referring to isn’t the tour I’m currently on, although he is still plenty pissed about that. His parents were forced to issue our divorce announcement early because of it. I doubt anyone but their rich, snobby friends gave a shit.
No, what was sparking this current tirade was the internet footage he’d seen of Hendrix and me, arm in arm, as he helped me into one of the cars that night we went to the club in Nashville.
I think it’s gained some popularity over the past few days because Hendrix has also received some attention thanks to aviral video. I haven’t seen the video that caused all the fuss, but Elena told me about it. Something about a behind-the-scenes tour Darius did for his social media that attracted a lot of attention after he caught Hendrix without a shirt.
It doesn’t surprise me. That man is cut like a fine Greek statue. It does, however, make me slightly jealous knowing millions of women are drooling over him. Will he change his mind about our arrangement when he realizes he can have his pick of practically anyone?
It’s those feelings of uncertainty, piled onto years of emotional baggage Tanner just dug up, that have me canceling my plans with Hendrix. I don’t even give him a reason why.
What is wrong with me?
Instead of sending a follow-up text to apologize for my abruptness, like I should be doing, I instead toss my phone onto the bed and hopelessly stare into the hotel mirror.
If I hadn’t answered his phone call, I would have used this mirror to check my makeup and accessorize the cute dress I picked out. If he hadn’t called, I’d be smiling at the woman staring back at me.
But right now, when I look at her, all I see is failure.
I see a woman who was taught to be fierce, yet she allowed a man to make her feel weak.
A woman who became so fragile that she blamed herself for her husband’s mistakes.
A woman who believed she was too smart to ever fall for someone likehim.
What if I’m just making the same mistake? After everything I went through, can I learn to trust someone else? Can I trust myself?
A knock at the door interrupts my doom spiral. I freeze, uncertain whether to answer it. I didn’t order room service, and it’s too late in the day for anything else.
“Zara?” I hear Hendrix’s concerned voice, and without hesitation, I walk toward the door to unlock it. I pull it open and see him scan me from head to toe, checking for injuries or illness, no doubt.
“Hi,” I say, fidgeting with the hem of my sweatshirt. I hadn’t even gotten dressed before Tanner called. I probably look like an absolute mess, with my frizzy, air-dried hair and the oversized basketball sweatshirt I stole from my dad last Thanksgiving.
“Hi,” he replies. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say a little too quickly. “No. Maybe?”
“Can I come in?” His words are so hesitant, as if he’s speaking to a baby deer. God, it’s me. I’m the fucking deer.
I nod, my eyes sweeping over his tall frame as he passes by me. He looks so damn good. Dressed in black jeans and a T-shirt, his outfit is downright elegant compared to mine.
He settles into one of the overstuffed chairs across from the bed. I’m not sure if he’s offering me space or simply needs some of his own, but I take the bed anyway, crossing my legs as I face him.
“I’m sorry for?—”
He raises a hand in the air. “I didn’t come here for an apology, Zara.”
“Okay, but you deserve one.”
“You know, my mom once told me that women are basically conditioned from birth to apologize for everything,” he says. “Regardless of who is at fault.”
“And why did your mom tell you this?”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t because she was correcting my behavior,” he says, and then shrugs. “Although she probably wouldn’t like the way I interrupted you just now. That was rude of me. She has three sons, so she’s always made it her mission to ensure we’re decent human beings. Decent men.”
“And that’s why you won’t let me apologize for canceling a date?”
