Breaking Stars - J. Sterling Page 0,97

my body, I dismissed it, forcing myself to remember that he hadn’t so much as called since I’d been back.

I jumped out of bed and dialed Madison’s number as I walked into the bathroom and reached for a washcloth. She was quickly becoming someone I trusted, and I realized that I always had to some extent. Calling her was almost second nature, and we’d only just become business partners the day before.

“Paige,” she answered.

“My God.” I didn’t know what else to say; I was at a loss.

“It’s okay. We’ll deal with this. Do you want to release a statement?”

I balled my hand into a fist a few times before responding. “But I just released a huge statement on my website. We just posted that last night, and now this?”

“I know you’re frustrated. Why don’t we see how the day plays out, and then we can figure out what we want to do, if anything.”

I was tired. Tired of this constant defense of myself, my actions, my thoughts, my movements. It was something I’d never dealt with before, so I wasn’t necessarily good at it. The letter to my friends had drained me, and I’d already said everything I wanted to. I didn’t want to talk anymore, suddenly feeling like all my honest words from last night were negated by a few pictures and lying headlines.

“Okay, Madison. Let’s just sit on it if we can. I’m tired.”

“I know you are. This will be okay. But can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“If that’s the guy from the broken-down town, I wouldn’t have wanted to leave either.”

A small smile tugged at my lips. “I know, right?” I said halfheartedly.

“I’ll be in touch,” she said.

Tossing my cell aside, I fought off the urge to dive back into bed and hide out under the covers. Instead I padded into the kitchen after brushing my teeth and started my coffeemaker. I rifled through the cupboard, then pulled out a box of cereal and started munching on it straight out of the box.

I reached for my laptop, then hopped up on my countertop and placed it on my lap as I waited for my coffee. It seemed like every outlet had picked up the pictures of Tatum and me and were running them nonstop. They printed articles saying how I cheated on Colin first, and that’s why he did what he did. Suddenly, I was the bad guy and Colin was the victim. It sickened me.

When I came across a post from Colin that said, “Now everyone knows what I was dealing with,” I almost threw my laptop across the room. The utter betrayal enraged me, forcing to wonder again how any one person could be so malicious toward a person they claimed to have loved.

All of this was beyond ridiculous. My shock started to wear off as anger replaced it. I decided that I liked feeling angry; it was empowering. Not that I enjoyed the things that were happening to me, but being angry was a heck of a lot better than being confused, hurt, and overwhelmed. Those emotions didn’t constitute action like anger did. It fueled it.

After showering and getting dressed, I grabbed my things, fully intending to head over to Quinn’s house. This time I wasn’t going over there to cry, but to talk and form some kind of a game plan.

As I stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, I was shocked by Tatum’s familiar blue eyes looking back at me from the concierge desk. Sam was speaking to him softly, but I couldn’t make out the words.

I stopped in my tracks and pinched myself to make sure I was awake. Tatum noticed me do it and smiled as he moved to close the space between us.

“Miss Lockwood, this is okay, right?” Sam asked, his expression pained as he nodded his head in Tatum’s direction.

I nodded. “Yes, this is okay. For now,” I added quickly. “Thank you, Sam.”

Sam directed his attention toward his ringing telephone as Tatum took another tentative step toward me.

“Are you really here?” I asked through my shock as all the righteous anger whooshed out of me. My first instinct was that I wanted to protect Tatum from the paparazzi waiting outside, knowing that he would absolutely hate the way they would attack him, if they hadn’t already. I needed to warn him about the pictures. Did he already know?

“I’m so sorry, Paige.” He cautiously stepped toward me, clearly unsure of my reaction. “I’m so sorry I let