‘She should have known that a leopard can’t change its spots.’
Twenty-seven-year-old Zoey would have throat punched him and kicked him straight in the nuts. But despite the anger rising, I have responsibilities like work and my business that has taken a back seat as of late.
I don’t know how I’ve gotten through the day barely staying afloat so no one can see that every part of me has fallen apart. And I make sure that inside the office, and throughout the meetings, I hold myself together in front of Slater.
I see him watching, concerned about my well-being. Several times he’s tried to approach me, but I am quick to brush him off knowing that confiding in him as I have done in the past will end up in him saying things my fragile heart desperately needs to hear. And, I could mistakenly follow those words and end up somewhere I shouldn’t be, like his bed.
Slater would be a Band-Aid temporarily fixing a problem. I don’t need that, or a rebound, exactly what Noah had been.
I’m void of tears often finding myself blankly staring at things and people. It’s almost as if my mind can’t process emotions or actions, frozen in a state of shock.
I’ve packed my bags and left heading straight to Gigi’s. It’s surreal to be back here and maybe not the best idea in my fragile state. When Gigi opens the door to her apartment, it opens the door to my emotions which come crashing down in one volatile moment. Ugly sobs and a stream of tears falling down my face. My chest begins to hurt, breathing becomes difficult and is closely followed with dry heaves.
Gigi wraps her arms around me, and with my head buried into her shoulder, she allows me to release the pain that’s been tormenting me since the moment Mia told me what happened that night. Her scent, lavender mixed with vanilla, calms me enough to pull away.
“Let’s go inside. I’ll make you some tea I picked up from Sri Lanka.”
Personally, vodka from Russia is my preferred choice.
While walking inside the apartment, she forewarned me that Drew had called her to tell her his side of the story anticipating that this is where I’d go. He also passed the message on that he wanted to explain, but understood I needed space before we spoke. How caring of him! Insert a shitload of sarcasm right here.
I set my suitcase aside and settled on the sofa while Gigi disappeared to the kitchen emerging shortly after with a tray that had a teapot and two small cups with this beautiful gold and maroon pattern. Placing the tray on the coffee table, she pours my cup filling it to just underneath the rim and hands it to me. The warmth of the hot water comforts me, and upon taking a sip, my mouth tries to acclimate to the taste of flowers. Not that I know what flowers taste like, but vodka it’s not.
With my legs curled up on the sofa, I rest my head against the back ignoring the persistent stare from one of Gigi’s newer cats—Mariah.
“Your pussy is looking at me funny.”
Gigi turns her to head to where Mariah is positioned, comfortable on the spare armchair in the corner of the room
“Oh, don’t mind Mariah, she’s a little diva.”
“More than Patty and Diana?” I ask with a small laugh, the first I have laughed in what seems like forever.
“Mariah thinks she owns the place.” Gigi calls her over, but Mariah, the diva, watches with a steady yet evil gaze, not moving an inch.
“Thank you for letting me stay, Gigi.”
“C’mon, doll, you know you’re welcome here whenever you want. I hate seeing the both of you like this.”
“I hate this, too,” I admit. “But Gigi, I don’t even know how to process it all. We fell apart so quickly. That can’t be a good sign of things to come in the future.”
“Usually, I’d say that signs give us a sense of direction. Both of you have the biggest hearts of anyone I know. The problem is the bigger the heart, the more chance of being hurt.”
I choke back my tears trying to open up and get some clarity from a woman I respect and admire. “He went to a sex club with Raine. He cheated on me.”
“Honey.” Gigi softens her tone, placing her hand on mine. “I know this looks awful but his words… don’t take that with a grain of salt. Listen to him first before you make up your mind.”
“But why?” I raise mine thinking about our fight in my office over Slater. “He was quick to believe I was at Slater’s apartment fucking him. He refused to listen to my explanation. He saw what he wanted to see, and all I see is his hands all over her now.”
“But have you stopped to think of why he’d only see that?”
“No,” I say honestly, controlling my pitch. “I guess the wedding was putting added pressure on him.”
“Weddings do that. Sometimes, rather than being a joyous occasion, it’s a true testament to a couple’s ability to communicate and see eye to eye.”
“He changed. Ever since I told him I wanted to wait until the wedding night. I know we live together, and nothing else will change, but I wanted something special. He didn’t understand that and fought me on everything.”
Slowly, it begins to click. The lack of sex. Did he take that as me not being interested and therefore assumed I was sleeping with Slater? Drew is smart. Surely, he wouldn’t think that?