Page 108 of Not Safe for Work

“Follow me,” I say, my voice wooden and foreign to my own ears.

I wonder if he’s returned to the suite. I check my texts, but there’s nothing from him. Of course there isn’t. He’s getting back together with his girlfriend. The ball of anxiety in my stomach swells, making it hard to breathe.

Hannah trots behind me as we approach the elevator.

Tears build behind my eyes again, and I suck in deep breaths, trying to calm my racing pulse. I’m this close to fainting. My knees are liquid, and my limbs have turned to lead. I’m moving in slow motion like I’m drowning in Jell-O.

As we ascend the hotel in awkward silence, I can’t feel my hands or feet.

Hannah looks over at me with a small, uncertain smile because I’m being weird. She has no idea what happened with Rafe, but I knew all along that this was a possibility.

Finally, we arrive at the suite. I swipe my key card and swing open the door.

Hannah pushes past me, dragging her suitcase into the room. “Rafe!” she screams as he stands up from the couch. Slowly. So slowly, like he’s also sinking through the same bowl of Jell-O.

“Hannah,” he says as she runs towards him and throws her arms around his neck.

I watch him. He’s stiff and wide-eyed. What’s going through his head?

“Surprise!” Hannah yells. “I caught the first flight out of Chicago this morning! I booked us a room so we can spend a few extra days together. I already cleared it with your dad.”

Rafe looks at her with his brow furrowed, and I can’t watch this. I duck into the bedroom and drag my overpriced designer suitcases out of the closet. Three weeks ago, I’d been so proud of how I’d squeezed these out of David Gallagher, but now they’re tainted.

When I get home, I’ll burn them.

After flipping them on the bed, I pile my clothes inside, not bothering to fold anything. I want out of here as fast as possible. I shut out the voices in the other room, knowing I’ll collapse in a heap of tears if I hear them reconciling. All I can picture is Rafe coming into the bedroom to pack up his things and then leaving with Hannah.

I head to the bathroom and swipe all my toiletries into my bag. I grind my palm into my eye socket as a sharp, stabbing pain shoots across my scalp. I pop twice the normal dose of painkillers, hoping to dull the pressure swelling in my skull. I look like a raccoon, which is appropriate because I feel like I’m digging through garbage.

Once I’ve packed everything up, I drag my suitcases out of the room and stop. Rafe and Hannah are on the balcony. The door is open, but I can’t hear what they’re saying over the ocean’s roar. She’s sitting on my lounge chair with her hands in her lap while Rafe leans on the railing, his arms crossed over his chest.

I stare at him. His expression is grim, his eyes dark with shadows. The wind tosses his hair in a way that makes my heart ache. He’s so beautiful, and he was almost mine.

Then he looks over and catches sight of me. His arms drop, and he says something to Hannah before he enters the suite and rushes over.

“Tris, where are you going?”

I swing open the door and drag my luggage into the hall.

“Back to Chicago,” I say. “I’m done here.”

“I’ll be right back,” he yells behind him, closing the door so we’re standing in the hall. He wraps his hands around my shoulders. “You can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“It’s our last night here, and you didn’t answer me yesterday…” He trails off. “Have you been crying?” He looks so concerned that it takes all my willpower not to crumple against him and seek the safety of his arms.

“Answer you? Rafe, your fucking girlfriend is here.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Tris. How many times do I have to tell you?” His frustration is evident for the briefest moment, but then his shoulders drop. “And I keep telling you that, and yet, she keeps calling, and now she’s here, and of course you have no reason to believe me.”

He moves closer, squeezing the space between us. “Tris, you have to believe me now. I didn’t invite her here. I’m as shocked as you are. I have no desire to get back together with her. I planned to tell her the whole ugly truth when I got home. We’ve been friends for years, and I owed her that in person. I want to be with you. I meant everything I said last night. Please don’t leave until we can talk about this.”

I suck in a deep breath.

I want so badly to trust him, but one person I believed in has already let me down today.

“You asked me not to say goodbye,” I say. “But I need to leave right now, and you need to deal with this. If it’s over, then be honest and tell her. Don’t contact me again until you do. I won’t be caught in the middle of this anymore.”