The thought of someone watching while Aaron fucked my face. I’m so mortified. And all the things we said to each other, the games. I clasp my face with my hands. Ugh.
Three hours after settling into the new room, there’s a knock at the door. I drop my Kindle and scramble off the bed to look through the spyhole. There’s a busboy outside holding a huge bouquet of flowers.
I open the door and ask for the card. Inside the envelope is a message from Aaron.
Nicole. I didn’t know my brother was there. He lives in New York and didn’t tell me he was visiting. I’m so sorry to have put you in such a position. Upsetting you was the last thing I wanted to do. Please call me before you leave. I want to see you if you’ll allow it. Aaron x
I stare at the card, then at the three dozen beautiful roses that he’s sent me. They smell amazing, almost exactly like my grandmother’s garden. The whole thing makes me want to cry again.
“Can you do me a favor?” I ask the busboy. “Can you arrange for these flowers to be delivered to the offices of AHP with a note? The cost of the cab can be added to my room expenses.”
“Sure,” he replies, shifting under the weight of the stupidly beautiful blooms.
I return to the desk near the window and the complimentary paper and envelopes in the dressing table drawer. I write a quick note to Aaron, hoping he isn’t back in the office until tomorrow because, by that point, I will be long gone.
The busboy takes everything with a small shrug of his shoulders and makes his way back to the elevators. He’s probably going to tell the concierge that I’m crazy.
I don’t sleep well, despite drinking most of the newly stocked mini bar, pretty much everything except for the whiskey. The taste would bring back too many memories. I’m back in worry mode, dwelling on past mistakes and hurts, considering a future where I’m too fearful of letting anyone close to me.
I regret pushing aside my sensible limits to experience something more frivolous. Look at where it’s gotten me.
Hurt again.
Disappointed again.
The worst thing is that I’m now even less hopeful of finding someone trustworthy than I was before Aaron. I’ve moved backward.
On the way to the airport, I stop at a mall to get the trainers for Maya. The flight back to the UK is long and sad. I watch every film available to try and take my mind off what has happened. I know that Aaron’s received my message by now. I know that I’m never going to see him again. It’s how I want it to be, and how Aaron intended it to be at the start, so why do I feel so empty?16
AARONI pick up the small handwritten note from where I tossed it to my desk. The handwriting is neat and precise, the words written with care, not in anger. That somehow makes it all worse.
Nicole returned the roses I sent her. After anticipating she'd call me after my gesture, it's a huge disappointment that she didn't. I guess in another way, I've been right about her all along. She doesn't want flowers or chocolates.
Aaron
I'm too tired to play games. When I met you, I needed something simple, but this is getting complicated and bruising me in the process. Can we part saying it was fun (mostly!) and leave it at that? I hope you find someone willing to be what you want. I can't call you or see you without hurting myself further, so I hope you understand why I'm returning your flowers (they would only go to waste if I kept them) and replying to your note with a note of my own.
Nicole
I spend a long time standing at the floor-to-ceiling window in my office, studying Nicole's elegant handwriting and analyzing the words she's written, realizing that the sadness I saw in her eyes on the first night wasn't a figment of my imagination. Nicole is nursing wounds, and it seems that our interlude has exacerbated them.
I like one-night stands because I prefer not to get involved in things like this. We all have baggage, some more than others, but that baggage doesn't have to get wheeled into the kind of seduction I like. Pleasure doesn't have to come at a cost if you play it right.
I've been good at playing it right for a while, but with Nicole, I wasn't so successful.
I know it's not fair of me to feel angry with her for leaving without giving me the chance to make things right in person. I still don't know whether she believes that I was unaware he was watching us fuck. But behind my anger is a nagging sense of regret that she's gone. I miss her sense of humor, her elegance, and her smile. I've only known her for a short time, but she's managed to find a way of worming under the protective shell I've constructed since Adrianna. It's uncomfortable to feel out of control. The last time I let someone close to my heart, I walked away with it shattered, and I haven't trusted anyone since.