Page 98 of Beautiful Beast

“I know,” he admits.

“You need to get help.”

“The pills are supposed to help.”

“Actual help. Not just drugs.”

“I’m not lying on someone’s couch, Belle. This is one of the reasons why I told you we couldn’t get serious. I’m way too damaged. But I broke all my own rules for you and look what happened. Jesus. I am so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay. We just… we won’t have sleepovers anymore.”

I lean down and kiss Buster, comforting myself with his cuddles while he licks my tears away. My boy is always here for me and never lets me down.

“I already told you that I can’t be what you want,” he whispers.

“But I only want you. And you are you, so you are, in fact, the only one who can give me what I want. We just… We need to find a solution to this problem. It’s not good for you to be out of control when you’re asleep whether I’m here or not. You could hurt yourself.”

“I don’t care if I hurt myself. I only care if I hurt you. And Belle, you really need to go home, okay? Whatever was between us has to be over now.”

My entire body is shaking like wobbly Jello when I rise and yank my clothes back on. I don’t say anything else – I can’t.

Maybe Adam is right and everything between us is just too fucked up to work.

But then it shouldn’t hurt so badly to walk away from him.

If he hurt me on purpose, that would be totally different. But he didn’t.

And I don’t know what the hell to do.

Without any other options, I walk out of the room and Buster follows me back home.

In just a few short months, I’ll be moving into a much smaller and more affordable apartment. The penthouse is such a desirable spot that it was easy to sell, even with a longer closing date.

My temporary fairytale is ending.

I’m walking around the neighborhood with Buster, trying to soak in as much of my surroundings as possible, capturing everything to memory.

It’s not like I won’t be back because I work in mid-town Manhattan, but it won’t be the same as calling this beautiful place my neighborhood.

I’ll miss the stunning views of the Empire State Building, and the proximity to mom-and-pop restaurants, quaint coffee shops, and green spaces in parks.

My phone has been buzzing incessantly in my pocket, but I’ve been ignoring it. I already know it’s not Adam because he’s too busy pretending I don’t exist. And I don’t feel like discussing what happened with Ariel for the thousandth time.

But even Ariel wouldn’t call thirty times in a row.

With a sigh, I grab my phone and the name displayed on the screen almost makes me trip over my feet.

My mother.

We’ve been no contact for years. It’s way too coincidental that she’s calling now right after I received an inheritance that she undoubtedly wants. She’s spent my whole life jealous of me and making me hate all the good parts about myself because they are what drew her rage.

I don’t want to answer, but like a glutton for punishment, I do.

“What do you want?” I demand.

“The old bitch sent me a copy of her will.”

“You mean my grandmother, who you told me was already dead?”

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