The Scotch Series: The Complete Series (Scotch #1-3) - Penelope Sky Page 0,248

him to say something, to understand this wasn’t me at all. I hoped he would understand how much I loved him and I would never do this unless someone were forcing me. But I knew Josephine had fucked up his brain. She left him for someone else, and now I was leaving him. It wasn’t the first time a woman broke his heart.

I finally opened the door and walked out, doing my best not to look at him. I made it down the hallway and to the stairs, the tears falling harder and harder. Like a sheet of rain, the moisture drizzled down my face.

When I got to the front door, Dimitri stared at me with concern. He didn’t show any joy at my sadness, only confusion.

I got the door opened and ran right into Ariel. In her typical dark clothing, she looked like she had returned just to make sure I kept my word. She looked right at the tears on my face without giving the slightest reaction.

I had to steady my fist so I wouldn’t punch her. Nothing I’d like to do more than break that pretty little nose of hers. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” That was the best I could come up with on the spot. I moved past her, purposely shoving my shoulder into hers as I moved down the stone steps and to the driveway. There was a black SUV waiting for me, and the man got out and immediately helped me into the back seat.

I looked out the window as I waited for the car to pull away. Ariel stood at the front door with her arms crossed over her chest. She watched me with a stoic expression, my final words not leaving any kind of mark. I surveyed the windows of the tower, wondering what Crewe was thinking at that very moment. I treasured the final view of my home before I was pulled away forever, returning to my mediocre and passionless life.

When the car pulled away, I covered my face and gave in to the grief that burned inside of my heart. The driver didn’t glance at me over his shoulder. He didn’t ask me any questions either. He left me to cry to myself in peace, letting me express emotions that I couldn’t express in words.

I didn’t just lose the love of my life.

I lost my reason to live.

58

Crewe

I was numb.

Absolutely numb.

Whenever I was angry, I reached for the scotch. But I didn’t do that today. Whenever I was pissed, I shoved my fist through a wall. That didn’t happen either.

What I felt in that moment was different from anything else I’d ever experienced.

The first thing I did was sit down on the balcony. It was freezing cold outside and windy, but I needed the temperature to cool myself off. I rested my fingers against my chin and tried to understand what just happened.

She left me.

She didn’t want me anymore, so she packed her things and took off.

I thought we were happy.

I thought she loved me.

A part of me still thought those things. There had been instances when she behaved strangely, but I assumed she was simply in a peculiar mood. I didn’t think it reflected on me or her happiness in our relationship.

Maybe if I’d paid more attention, I would have noticed.

I sat there for hours until it was pitch black outside. I didn’t bother turning on the lights or having dinner. I allowed the shadows to surround me and steal my soul. I almost felt indifferent, but I knew that wasn’t the case. I knew I was in such distress my body didn’t know how to cope with the pain.

I was going to ask her to marry me.

But she wanted to break up instead.

How would I internalize that? How would I accept that? It was hard for me to take her back to begin with. She fought for me, even moved here for me, and then she just changed her mind?

It didn’t add up.

I made love to her last night, and everything seemed normal. She was drenched for me, and when she said she loved me, I could see the passion in her eyes. If you told me then that was my last night with her, I wouldn’t have believed you.

But that didn’t stop it from being true.

I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’d given up alcoholism, my biggest habit. I’d given up my asshole attitude too. All my bad characteristics had been locked away