Page 81 of It Hurts Me

“Give it a chance with Astrid.”

“She’s not even divorced yet.”

“Even better. You can take it slow.”

“I’m not ready for a relationship.”

“Asshole, I hate to break it to you, but you’re in one. You’re in a very complicated, very messy relationship. Just tell her you need to take it slow. Like fucking slooooooow. No pressure. No expectations. Just see where it goes.”

I stared at the cold fireplace.

“Theo.”

I wouldn’t look at him.

“Your other choice was to torture and kill Bolton—and you’ve clearly decided not to do that. So this is the only choice. You’ve chosen it.” He continued to stare at me. “Now go get your woman.”

When I entered the Ritz, I made sure to take the back route. Slip in through the back door after one of the kitchen staff took out the trash. If she was still there, that meant Bolton had eyes on the building—especially if he knew about me.

I took the service elevator to her floor then headed down the hallway that I’d walked before. I wasn’t sure if she was still there, if Bolton had dragged her back home, or if she’d moved in to an apartment once she had a second to breathe.

I knocked, unsure if she or a stranger would answer.

Footsteps made the floor creak slightly, and then the light over the peephole vanished as a shadow passed across.

Then the door opened, and Astrid was behind it.

Her eyes were hollow. Her fair skin was free of makeup. She wore a baggy shirt and pajama shorts, clearly not expecting visitors. Her reaction to me was subdued, that spark in her eyes stomped out by my boot. She pulled the door open wider so I could pass through but didn’t actually say anything to me.

I entered the suite I’d visited before, and it looked exactly the same, as if time had been passing for her with the same painful slowness it’d been passing for me. Her suitcase was still in the corner, and a room service table was pushed against the wall, the plates mostly full of food she hadn’t touched.

The depression filled the room like smoke.

I looked at her once again, seeing her arms crossed over her chest, completely cut off from me after I’d crushed her. “I’m sorry for the way I was before.”

Her eyes were on the floor, her hands gripping the insides of her arms, her long hair beautifully placed around her shoulders. Even on her darkest night, she had a light so alluring.

“Not my best day.”

She continued to avoid my stare like that apology wasn’t good enough.

“Have you spoken to Bolton?”

After a pause, her eyes lifted to look at me. “He came by yesterday. We talked for hours and hours…and then he finally left.”

Then she hadn’t changed her mind.

“I can’t go back to him, not when I feel this way.”

“When you feel what way?”

“When I don’t see him the same way anymore…when I have feelings for someone else. He could sleep with other people and keep it purely physical, but I’m not that way. I’m an emotional person. I connect emotionally, not just physically.”

I watched the emotions move over her face as she spoke, watched her battle the tide that wanted to sweep her away.

“If he hadn’t asked me to end the arrangement, I’m not sure how long I would have stayed. But I don’t think I would have stayed forever. It’d been gnawing at me for a while, day and night, forming ulcers in my stomach. With every passing day, my lungs started to heave as I began to suffocate.”

“Do you feel better now?” Because she looked worse than she ever had.