Page 237 of The Art of Almost Losing It
“Dani, I’m so sorry.” I turn back away from them, toward the door, while Frank tells me to stop.
“Please forgive me.”
45
DANI
Graham’s family stands there in shock after he leaves. His mom is still quietly sobbing. Lulu whines at my feet, looking between me and the door where Graham just left.
“Look, just… It wasn’t like that,” I offer lamely.
“So Graham didn’t kidnap you?” Frank’s voice is steely.
“No, I mean, he did sort of, but it wasn’t like akidnappingkidnapping, you know?”
They don’t.
My eye throbs from where I got knocked in the face with a dildo. I’m jet-lagged and hungover, and I’m behind on work stuff. The unspoken rule—well, spoken in the case of the VP I work with—is that you need to reply to an email within five minutes. I’m like two days behind on some of my emails.
I’m not sure how to explain without making myself look like a total nutcase.
Aurora wipes at her eyes. Ryan’s hugging her.
“I am so sorry,” his mom says. I can tell from the way her mouth turns down at the corners that she is truly sorry. That makes me feel even worse.
“Graham didn’t do this.” I point to my eye.
“You don’t have to lie to protect him.” Aurora takes a shaky breath. “I guess we have to go give this video to the police.” She looks both incredibly old and incredibly young.
“Whoa, the police?” I wave my hands.
“No, you’re right. The FBI,” she says faintly.
“The FBI?”
I’m getting visions of my mother finding out and freaking out. Of everyone laughing about how I made the whole thing up. I’ll have to admit that I blackmailed Graham. That everyone was right and I am ugly and gross and a loser and no man would ever actually want me.
I will be the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. My parents will disown me. Well, Dad won’t, and honestly Mom won’t either, but she’ll be so guilt-trippy that I’ll wish she had.
I’ll have to move. Probably somewhere like small-town Ohio, because it’s not like I can afford to move back to St. Moritz.
“Why don’t we… uh…” I say.
Frank has his phone in hand. He pauses.
“Let’s just give Graham a minute to… It’s just… It sounds like he’s sorry. Maybe he’ll turn himself in?” I offer.
Unless I catch him first.There has to be some way of making this story go away.
Or maybe he’d actually rather be in prison than be with me. Maybe he realized he was caught in some sort of delusion, then woke up, and was like,Why do I have this pasta addict in my apartment?
“We need to go to the authorities. Graham is on the run. He’s dangerous,” Frank says firmly.
“Yeah, but let’s not turn it into a circus. No one wants a manhunt in the streets of Manhattan, right? I’ll text him that he has until tomorrow morning to turn himself in—”
“Tomorrow morning?” Frank’s mad.
“Dad…” Ryan’s eyes are watering. “He’s my brother, Dad. I can’t…” Ryan makes a helpless gesture.
