Page 36 of Don't Hate Me
“This is stupid,” he muttered. “I should just drive you home.”
“Even if he’s not home, I need him to see the Uber transaction.”
I knew Marc didn’t understand. I knew he thought I was making my father’s surveillance seem more dramatic than it was. If anything, I was underplaying it. Arthur had been even more diligent since my return from Florida.
Almost as if he was anticipating a rebellion on my part.
There were cameras in the house where there hadn’t been before. I was also pretty sure my tutor was being paid to report on my actions and behaviors. A new bodyguard, just in a different package.
My every step was monitored. The only freedom I had was when I was spending time with George, but that wasn’t often since he was shuttling Arthur to Manhattan more than ever.
Today wouldn’t be any different.
But I checked. He would be able to see the flight had arrived on time, but he would have no way of being able to determine if my luggage had been delayed on a separate flight.
The timing would work out. I’d purposefully not picked up my suitcase before meeting Marc, so it would find its way to the airline’s lost and found.
He was navigating through the cars now. Finding an open spot near the curb.
I reached over and grabbed his forearm, digging my nails in deep. I wanted my words to match the pain I was inflicting.
“No matter what you hear about me, don’t believe it. Don’t believe any of it. I’ll always love you. You have to know that. You have to see that is my only truth.”
He let his head fall back on his shoulders. “Ash, I’m sorry I couldn’t be more for you. Braver…something.”
I turned to him then as he stopped the car. It didn’t matter if I cried now. Because we were at the end of the ride.
“You will be,” I told him, finally able to look into his eyes. “I’m betting everything I have, that someday you will be.”
10
Landen Enterprises, LLC
Four months later
Marc
“Oh, wow. There she is,”Trevor muttered to me, but I was focused on the numbers on my laptop.
We were sitting in the conference room, working on a client’s profile. I’d finished my last summer class and was working full-time at Landen Enterprises until my final semester started next week.
One more semester. Graduation by December. I didn’t yet know what I was going to do after that. I doubted I would stay here. Working here was too hard. Seeing Landen occasionally was too hard.
All of it was too hard.
Life was too fucking hard.
Nothing had prepared me for the silence. Ash had been a part of my life since I was twelve years old. Always there, always talking. Always pushing me, prodding me, poking me. Pissing me off.
When it ended—and true to her word, everything had ended, all communication—I didn’t know how to deal with it.
She’d texted she’d gotten her period on time, and that was it.
My final communication from Ash was about her fucking period.
About ten thousand times I picked up the phone with the intent to end this shit. To talk to her. To tell her maybe we couldn’t date. Maybe we couldn’t fuck.
But we sure as hell meant something to each other. We were part of each other’s lives. That shouldn’t have to end, just because we weren’t going to have some happy fucking ever after.
