Page 95 of Twisted Control

The saddest part is that I bet he believed you loved him back.

At the time I told myself it was ridiculous. Just strangers projecting onto my mess of a life. But sitting here now, I can’t stop seeing everything through Drew’s eyes instead of mine.

The way I kept going back to him. The way I sought him out, kissed him first, climbed into his lap, let him hold me when I was sad. The way I let him see every messy, difficult, ugly part of me that I hide from the rest of the world. The way I let him take care of me.

A horrible ache spreads through my chest.

He must have thought I would choose him.

And I didn’t.

God.

I was so wrapped up in my own fear and confusion that I never really stopped to think about what this must have felt like for him. He put his pride aside for me again and again, and I repaid him by treating him like some impossible fantasy I could enjoy for a little while before returning to my “real” life.

No wonder he’s angry.

No wonder he wants nothing to do with me.

I’ve really messed this all up.

The thought of living the rest of my life without him feels unbearable.

I stare down at the table, blinking hard.

I’ve been such a fool.

My chest tightens so sharply it hurts. I try to breathe, but the air catches in my throat. A painful, burning knot rises, and my vision blurs. The tears spill faster, hot against my lashes.

I murmur a quick excuse to Charles, my voice barely audible, and slip away from the table before I completely fall apart in front of everyone.

I’ve barely made it halfway down the quiet hallway when a strong hand clamps around my wrist from behind and yanks me sideways.

Before I can even register fear, his scent wraps around me.

Drew pulls me into a small storeroom and shuts the door. The space is cramped, cluttered with stacked chairs and folded linens. My back meets the wall before I can catch my balance.

He steps in close, caging me in with his body. His eyes lock onto mine.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” Drew says, voice low and furious. “You tell me no. You choose that asshole out there.” He jerks his head toward the ballroom. “Then five minutes later you’re texting me, looking for me all over the room, crying in hallways—” He lets out a sharp laugh with no humor in it. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

“I’m sorry,” I choke out.

“You will be,” he growls, “when you’re on your knees sucking his flaccid old cock.”

He’s being crass but the pain in his voice breaks something open inside me completely.

A sob catches hard in my throat. I grab fistfuls of his jacket without even thinking, clinging to him like he’s the only solid thing in my life.

“Please don’t leave me,” I cry against his chest. “I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you so much and I was scared and stupid and confused and I messed everything up.” My voice cracks apart completely. “I’ll go with you. I’ll go anywhere. Just don’t leave me.”

Drew goes completely still.

For one horrible second, panic tears through me. I think he’s going to pull away. Push me off him. Tell me it’s too late.

Instead, I feel his arms slowly close around me, then tighten like he can’t help himself. He buries one hand in my hair and exhales hard against the top of my head.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters roughly.