Chapter 16: Exes

Constantine's POV

'Nothing, I'm fine. I'm just tired.' I pull back, wiping at my eyes. 'And emotional. Seeing you here, seeing you doing better…it's a lot.'

She studies my face for a long moment, and I wonder if she can see through the lies. If somewhere beneath the dementia, my mother still knows when I'm breaking.

'Whatever you're going through,' she says softly, 'you don't have to go through it alone. You can talk to me.'

'I know, Mom.' The lie was just…it felt like it was already eating me up. Because I can't talk to her. I can't tell her what I've done, what I'm doing every night. I can't destroy whatever peace she's found here with the truth. 'I know.'

We sit together for another hour. She drifts in and out of clarity.one moment asking me about school (I graduated years ago), the next remembering my new job, then forgetting again and asking if I've eaten dinner. The confusion is hard to watch, but the moments of when she is normal make it bearable.

When a nurse comes to let me know it's almost time for my mother's evening medication and routine, I know I have to leave.

'I'll come back soon, Mom. I promise.' I kiss her cheek, breathing in that lavender scent one more time.

'You're a good girl, Constantine,' she says again, patting my hand. 'Don't let anyone tell you different.'

If only she knew.

I leave Rosewood Manor as the sun is setting. It makes the sky has this orangish and purplish beautiful colour. It is beautiful, but it just feels wrong somehow because nothing had the right to feel this beautiful when I feel empty and hollow inside.

The taxi drops me off near Ivy's apartment. I'm walking the last block, my heels clicking against the pavement, when I see him. He's across the street, leaning against a lamppost like he's been waiting for me. Like he knew I'd come this way.

My heart stops. My breath catches in my throat. Everything in the world narrows down to just him and me and all the broken pieces between us.

'Matthew.'

He straightens when he sees me, his hands coming out of his pockets.

'Constantine. Wait, please. I just want to talk.'

I should keep walking. I should ignore him, get inside, lock the door, and pretend I never saw him. But my feet won't move. I'm frozen on the sidewalk, staring at the man who destroyed me six months ago.

He looks the same. Dark hair that's always a little too long. Brown eyes that used to make me feel safe. The same leather jacket he wore on our first date. Everything about him is familiar, achingly familiar, and it hurts to look at him.

'I don't have anything to say to you,' I manage finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

'Then just listen. Please.' He takes a step toward me, and I instinctively step back. The hurt that flashes across his face is visceral. 'Constantine, I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you. But I need you to understand—'

'Understand what?' The words burst out of me, sharp and bitter. 'That you chose her over me? That you told me you loved me and then left me for your ex the next day? What exactly do you want me to understand, Matthew?'

'It wasn't like that—'

'Then what was it like?' I'm shaking now, my hands clenched into fists. 'Because from where I was standing, you made your choice pretty fucking clear.'

He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. It's a gesture I remember too well. How many times did I watch him do that when he was stressed? How many times did I smooth that hair back myself, kiss his forehead, tell him everything would be okay?

'I made a mistake,' he says. 'The biggest mistake of my life. Sarah—she showed up, and she was crying, and she said she'd changed, that she wanted to try again. And I... I don't know, Constantine. I panicked. I thought maybe I owed her another chance after everything we'd been through.'

'And what about what we'd been through?' My voice cracks. 'What about the year we spent together? What about all the times you told me I was different, that you'd never felt this way about anyone?'

'I meant all of that—'

'No, you didn't.' Tears are streaming down my face now, and I hate it. Hate that he still has this power over me. 'If you meant it, you wouldn't have left. You wouldn't have chosen her.'

'I know. I know, and I'm sorry. God, Constantine, I'm so fucking sorry.' He takes another step forward, and this time I don't move back. 'It lasted two weeks. Two weeks before I realized what an idiot I'd been. Sarah and I—we didn't work the first time, and we didn't work the second time either. Because she wasn't you.'

'Don't.' The word comes out broken and choked out. 'Don't do this.'

'I tried to call you. I came by your apartment, but you'd moved. Your phone was disconnected. It was like you'd vanished.' His hand reaches out, hovering near my arm but not quite touching. 'Where did you go, Constantine? What happened to you?'

I think about the eviction notice. The nursing home bills. The hospital calling to tell me my father was dying. I think about standing in Wyatt's office, sinking to my knees, selling myself piece by piece. All things that happened after Matthew broke my heart and left me with nothing.

'Life happened,' I say flatly. 'The kind of life you don't get to know about anymore.'

'Constantine, please. Just give me another chance. Let me make this right.' His hand finally makes contact, his fingers wrapping gently around my wrist. The touch is familiar, warm, nothing like Wyatt's cold possession. 'I love you. I never stopped loving you.'

My body remembers him. Remembers the way he used to hold me, the way his touch felt safe instead of threatening. For just a moment, I let myself imagine it. Going back to him. Pretending the last six months never happened. Being the girl I was before everything fell apart.

But I can't. That girl is dead. Wyatt made sure of that.

'Let go of me,' I whisper.

'Constantine—'

'Let go.' My voice is stronger now. 'You had your chance, Matthew. You made your choice. Now I'm making mine.'

'Which is what? To hate me forever?' There's desperation in his voice. 'I made a mistake. One mistake. Doesn't what we had mean anything?'

'It meant everything.' The words hurt to say. 'But you destroyed it. You don't get to put it back together just because you're lonely now.'

'I'm not lonely, I'm—'

A car horn cuts him off. We both turn to see a black sedan pulling up to the curb beside us. The driver's window rolls down, revealing a man in a suit I don't recognize.

'Miss Windsor?' he says. 'Mr. Gorshkovsky requires your presence. Please get in the car.'

My blood turns to ice.

No. No, I was supposed to have tonight. He said I could have tonight.

'Who the hell is that?' Matthew's hand tightens on my wrist.

'Constantine, what's going on?'

'I have to go,' I say, trying to pull away from him.

'Not until you tell me what's happening. Who is Gors…whatever the fuck his name is? Is that your new boss?' His eyes narrow. 'Is something going on? Are you in trouble?'

'Miss Windsor,' the driver says again, more firmly. 'Mr. Gorshkovsky is waiting.'

If I don't go, there will be consequences. I know that without being told. Wyatt owns me now. Every minute of my time, every inch of my body. And if I make him wait, if I make him angry…

'I'm sorry,' I whisper to Matthew, finally wrenching my wrist free. 'I have to go.'

'Constantine, wait—'

But I'm already moving toward the car, my heart pounding, my hands shaking. The driver gets out and opens the back door for me. I slide inside, and the door closes with a heavy thunk that sounds like a cell door slamming shut.

Through the tinted window, I can see Matthew standing on the sidewalk, his face a mixture of confusion and concern and something that might be fear.

The car pulls away, and I watch him disappear into the distance.

My phone buzzes in my purse. I pull it out with trembling hands. It's a text from an unknown number:

Change of plans. Come to the penthouse now. Don't make me wait.

I close my eyes and lean my head back against the leather seat.

I was supposed to have tonight. One night to pretend I was still a normal girl, still capable of normal interactions with normal people. One night to see my parents and remember why I'm doing this. But then, he just won't let me be.