Chapter 75

I have finally unpacked the clothes I want to keep handy, into Arrick’s spare room wardrobe, and every other box is piled neatly in the corner. I know with the speed the Carreros get things done, I should have an apartment sooner than later. I’m looking forward to having my own space though and if last night is anything to go by, staying here will get harder as time passes. The sooner I move out and get some distance, a real step up in my life, get this show on the road, so to speak, the sooner I will feel better.

The drive home was strained, mostly silent, and Arrick hasn’t even tried to talk me out of my mood. He left me be to stare at the scenery, lost in my own thoughts and listen to the radio. Four hours of music and heavy silence, with only the odd conversation about food when he stopped at a drive through-u. I have literally lost all will to even try today, and he is doing what he does best. Submerged in his head, mulling over God knows what and presenting that cool facade to the world as though he hasn’t a goddamn care. It makes me feel like punching him in the throat.

I’m hurt and angry, and I want to shake him until he realizes he loves only me, whether it’s true or not.

This is driving me insane, and I wish he had never said anything at all about his feelings, wishing I was back to never knowing that he cared at all. I wonder if I should have stuck to the plan of cutting him off and keeping him out, because I know it would be less agony than this dangling on a thread thing he has me doing now. This isn’t how true love is supposed to be; he is supposed to know he loves me, and only me, and throw everything else aside to be with me.

Why did I have to fall in love with a guy who over thinks, over analyses and cares too much about everyone and everything, to just go with his gut? Why did I have to fall for the one guy who is not an asshole, and won’t just do what he wants selfishly when other people are involved?

“Dinner is here.” Arrick ducks his head into my room and gazes at me expressionlessly, no hint of anything in his tone at all. We have only conversed when needed since we got here, and we’re going through some sort of passive-aggressive standoff. He seems as uninterested in resolving this as I am.

Tired of the atmosphere and left me to unpack while he did whatever it is he does in his study when he disappears in there.

I don’t respond, just drop the makeup bag I’m holding on the bed and follow him out to his open-plan lounge. Unaware he even ordered dinner for us and surprised that it’s this late already. The growing dimness of the skyline alerts me to the fact it’s evening and my day has passed in a blur of driving, silence and being pissed off.

He’s set up the food on the dining table at the far wall by the long wide windows; the sun setting in that little corner, and the smell of food makes me realize I’m starving. My stomach grumbling and taking over the constant aching weight inside of me to give it some respite.

I can’t help thawing a little when I spy the familiar red and white takeaway boxes from my favorite Chinese, spread out invitingly and neatly presented. Arrick normally orders from one on the east side religiously, but I always claimed that this one was far superior. I catch that quick glance my way as I run a finger over the nearest carton, tracing the logo emblazoned there with a little melting of my feisty resolve, then sit down opposite him to eat.

There’s a choice of things I normally order from the menu; my favorites, all of them in fact. Even things he always refuses to order simply because he can’t stand the smell of them. He’s really thought about this, even though it’s just food, and I start to unload a selection to my plate with the chopsticks, smiling a little, yet I still want to stay mad as hell at him.

He knows how to get under my skin, and the small glances and that little smug half smile of his, that I’ve noticed his attention to what I like. An Arrick peace offering, because flowers were obviously not going to be repeated, and he knows I would never toss food out a window. I break into a small smile and shake my head, not meeting the eyes that I can feel on me as I stuff food into my mouth ravenously.

“Still pissed at me?” Arrick nudges my foot under the table with his, playfully cute and still being coy. I can see his face without looking up, see him watching me with that half smirk and dimples on show and just sigh, acting nonchalant and pulling coolness out of my acting hat.

“Maybe,” I answer flatly, digging into my food heartily with the hunger of a starved stray. Not ready to forgive him so easily, just on principle, because I think I should make him suffer for a little longer. That kiss was special, amazing, and his willingness to dismiss how it felt, and act like it was nothing, is still getting to me on a major level.

Arrick sighs and digs into his food too, looking at me from under those perfect almost straight eyebrows of his, that soft hazel glance that could melt icebergs. If they had him on the Titanic, then I am sure it would have avoided all disaster on the strength of that look alone.

We’re interrupted by his buzzer. Arrick checks his watch and frowns, obviously not expecting anyone, and gets up slowly to walk out of the dining area to answer it. He has this intercom thing which disables access to his floor via the elevator if he wants privacy. To get up they have to use the front desk and call up for him to accept it, or if you have a key card and his passcode, then you can get up without buzzing. Whoever it is has no access card.

I carry on eating. Arrick gets so many people popping by, from mates, like his best friend Nathan, to his fight manager, and sometimes Jake, or even Daniel. It could be anyone, so I don’t even acknowledge when I hear him buzz whoever it is in. I continue eating, loving my little selection of favorites, all while hating him a little bit less. I’m one of those girls who get grumpy when she’s hungry and food can solve most of life’s problems.

Arrick comes back and hovers at the side of the table for a moment, I glance up, wondering what he’s doing, and realize he looks stressed and is staring at me oddly. No longer confident and smug; he’s unsure, nervous, and toying with verbalizing something.

“What is it?” I ask him blatantly. He’s weirding me out and anxiously hovering beside me, and he suddenly crouches down on his haunches so he can get more level with me and takes my hand.

Making me even more suspicious of what he’s doing.

“I need you to be good, just for once, Sophs. I need you to behave, and not throw your dummy out, for like one night. Even if you’re still pissed at me.” He frowns at me and I look at him like he’s gone nuts.

Scrutinizing his face intently and questioning him with my narrowed eyes.

“What?” I screw up my face and pull my hand away, wondering what the hell he’s on. Arrick hesitates, takes a deep breath, and blows it out slowly, like he is about to tell me my dog got run over or something equally heart-wrenching.

“Natasha is here. She wants to collect some things and to talk. I need you to not react.” He stares at me pleadingly and I get that heavy pit of weight hitting me in the gut. I glare at him and go back to my plate. Throwing off his look, head down and acting like I don’t give a shit.

“I’m staying right here to eat. I’m not moving from this room, so if you want to talk, then take her elsewhere.” I snap petulantly and carry on lifting food with my chopsticks. He takes a deep breath then puts his knees on the ground and straightens, so his head is more on my level. I can sense his apprehension coming off him in droves and it only makes me pricklier.

“Promise me you’ll try to behave, that you will try to be nice for once. Remember, she’s hurting too.”

Arrick is staring at me steadily, his gaze burning into the side of my face, and I turn on him aggressively. Temper snapping at the way he is pussyfooting around her and her feelings, yet lately he hasn’t given a shit about my fucking feelings in all of this.

“Why don’t you just come out and say it, huh? Sophie, please don’t mention the fact you’re the reason I broke up with her and have kissed you twice!” I snap, picking up my plate and slide past him briskly so that I almost knock him off his legs. I sashay across the floor to the kitchen; yank open the door of the refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water without looking his way. Balancing my plate in one hand and acting like the impulsive, angry nightmare I used to be.

“Sophs?” He’s following me again, but the noise of the elevator pinging turns us both around as the light above the door shows it getting to this floor. Like a warning bell of her arrival, how appropriate.

Arrick narrows his gaze on me and I can see the pulse beating in his throat as he tries to curb his reaction.

“Better go run along and welcome your girlfriend in....; I think I’ll take the couch and watch a movie!” I snap at him and drag myself and the items in my hands with me to the sofa in the middle of the room.

Walking like a catty hoe and giving zero fucks about him, or her. He tenses his jaw when he throws a look my way, walks towards the foyer, furrowing those brows and hesitates for a second before staring across the room at me.

“Don’t make this worse for her. I’m trying, please.... For once in your life. Think about someone else’s feelings.” Arrick’s words sting me to the core and I snap my mouth shut and look away, tears burning my eyes, but I push them down harshly. Hating that he can’t see why I’m upset about all of this, considering the fact he told me he feels something for me and then kissed me like I mattered last night.

Am I just supposed to pretend everything is still the same??