Page 94 of False Comeback

Which was stupid. So fucking stupid.

But I still had to look away.

Chapter Thirty-One

Vince and Crossbody’s Second Therapy Session

Crossbody

I couldn’t decide how I was feeling.

In some ways, I was almost at peace. Something had shifted inside me. Suddenly, I had more hope for my life here. Work was better. Vince and I didn’t really speak, but we also didn’t try to needle each other all the time. We would make eye contact and smile or nod in the days after our second night at the motel. I felt less like an outsider, able to sit with the others and make conversation a bit, because I knew he wasn’t going to start snarking at everything I said. My budding friendship with Eloise helped.

But in other ways, it almost felt like I was in mourning.

Our long-running feud was tentatively over, and my days suddenly seemed empty. Lacking.

Like I missed him.

I threw myself into my hobbies to try and fill the empty space inside me, spending hours in my small garden and baking almost obsessively. When my cleaner, Ren, showed up for work on Friday morning, there was a huge stack of pastries and cakes on the counter for him to take home. It wasn’t like I had anyone else to give them to, and I didn’t want them to go to waste.

I tried bonding with Lady Potato—reluctantly—but she wasn’t interested unless I was feeding her.

By the time Monday rolled back around, I was actually looking forward to our ‘couples therapy’ session with Corey, because it meant that Vince and I would have to be in the same small space, talk, acknowledge each other properly. I was desperate for any kind of interaction with him. I didn’t care how uncomfortable it was.

When I reached the room at 1.55 p.m. and opened the door, Vince was already there, sitting on the loveseat in the same spot as last week while Corey lounged back in his pink armchair.

“Hi, darling,” Corey said cheerfully. “Take a seat.”

I gave him a polite smile, then found my gaze automatically drifting over to Vince as I approached. His knee was bobbing restlessly, fingers drumming on the armrest, but he offered me a tiny smile.

“Hi.”

I felt a little flustered as I sat and smoothed down my trousers. “Hello.”

“Well look at that.” Corey gave us a delighted nod of approval. “Have you been doing your ‘good morning’ exercises?”

“Kind of,” Vince said, sounding slightly amused.

“God, I’m good,” Corey muttered to himself, then put on his useless glasses and shifted back to get comfortable. “Now, let’s pick up where we—”

“Actually, Corey.” I cleared my throat. “I was wondering if I could say something. Before we began.”

Corey paused, then took his glasses back off to place one of the temple tips against his mouth with a thoughtful nod. “Of course, Crossbody,” he said in a hushed voice.

Swallowing, I looked over at Vince, who’d grown a little tense as he waited for me to speak.

“I’ve been thinking about what I said during court recently and I…” Heat crept up my throat, but I forced myself to hold his gaze, my voice husky with nerves. “I’m sorry for what I said about you. You’re not a slacker. You work hard and you’re extremely good at your job. You’re more professional than me,” I added, my flush deepening.

It was true. Vince had never gone off-script and sabotaged a match. I had.

“I’m sorry I said those things in front of everyone. I’m sorry I said them at all.”

“Oh my god,” Corey whispered in excitement. “A breakthrough.”

Vince had frozen, his throat working as he stared at me with wide eyes. He was so handsome, I thought as I looked back at him in silence, my chest aching as I let myself truly realise it. He was lean and narrow-faced and almost gaunt, but his features were beautifully sharp and his eyes were so wonderfully dark. Endless pools of black.

“Vince?” Corey prompted in his hushed therapist voice.