Page 41 of My Destiny
“Look.” Her face softens as she speaks. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, truly I am, and as much as I’ve enjoyed spending time in your spectacular apartment with that killer view, I have a place of my own, and commitments. I need to get back to my life.”
“I understand that,” I say. “But I’m concerned about you going back there.”
“And I appreciate that, but I’m not your problem. Can’t you see that?”
I want her to be my problem, but I don’t voice that out loud. She steps forward and grabs a hold of my hand. “You are one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, and I’m glad I stuck around long enough to say a proper goodbye, but I need to get back tomylife now.”
“So, are you saying you don’t want to see me anymore?”
Her grip tightens on my hands. “It’s more that I can’t.”
“Is the thought of being around me so terrible?” I ask. My words come out more abrupt than planned, but what she just said hurts.
She lets go of my hands as her eyes move down to the floor. “No.”
I place my finger on the base of her chin, moving her gaze back to mine. “Then what?”
“It’s not you, personally,” she says. “It’s more what you do for a living.”
My face screws up in a frown. Am I hearing this right? “I can’t be in your life because I’m a lawyer?”
“Pretty much.”
“That’s a little unfair.”
She blows out a long breath. “Can we just drop it?”
“No.” I cross my arms over my chest, letting her know I intend to get to the bottom of this. There’s nothing wrong with what I do for a living. I’m a lawyer, for fuck’s sake, not a serial killer.
Ignoring me, she steps around me, heading towards the lift. I stand there in shock as she picks up her bag. “Thank you again for everything.” If she thinks I’m letting her just walk away she’s mistaken.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Brooke
I only make it as far as the lift before Logan corners me. “Brooke, wait. I’m not letting you go back there alone.”
“Fine.” I was more than willing to catch public transport, but I have no clue where the bus stops are from here anyway. And to be honest, I’m kind of glad. The last thing I want is to leave things like this. Hopefully I can smooth things out on the drive back to my place.
“Let me grab my keys.” He walks towards the long hall table in the foyer, it sits below a large mirror that expands the entire wall. I can see the deep frown lines etched in his forehead through the reflection and I feel awful. How do I tell him it’s me not him, without it sounding like a copout?
Instead of getting out on the ground floor, we go down to the basement, and he insisted on carrying my bag. Fishing in the pocket of his suit pants, he pulls out his keys as we cross the polished cement floor. He extends his hand out in front of him, and presses a button.
The lights on a black sports car ahead flash. His car is almost as sexy as him. “Nice car,” I say as he opens the passenger side door for me.
“Thanks.” The tension between us is clearly visible.
“What kind of car is it?” I ask, once we’re both seated inside.
“An Audi convertible R8 Spyder.” That means absolutely nothing to me; I don’t know a damn thing about cars.
“It suits you,” I say, looking over at him and smiling.
“Why, because I’m a lawyer?” There’s sarcasm in his tone, and although I choose to ignore his comment, it still stings.
As the automatic garage door to the carpark opens, allowing the light from outdoors to flood in, he flicks a button on the centre console, opening the roof as we drive up a steep driveway. Never in my life have I been in a car like this. Jake and I owned a regular, everyday car. It was all we could afford. And now that I’m on my own, I don’t even have one. Our lifestyles couldn’t be any further apart if we tried.
We travel in silence all the way to my place, and the closer we get, the more knotted up my stomach becomes. I’m not sure if it’s because this is the end of the road for us, or because I’m anxious about being back here.
