Chapter 115 115. I Am Pathetic
Natasha hung up on me, but her words kept echoing.
Pathetic enough to be someone's dirty little secret.
That isn't how the conversation was meant to go. I shouldn't be the one deep in thought, reflecting, or trying to calm down. It should be Natasha! I was supposed to... to corner her... to confront her in such a way that'd leave her thinking about her life for days.
My phone started ringing again. Lucien's name flashed across the screen. I stared at it, watching it vibrate against the coffee table until it went to voicemail.
I took a deep breath. I needed to do something with my hands before I completely fell apart.
There was a vase of flowers on the table. Old ones from last week that Maya had picked up at the market. I decided to dump the water and replace them with fresh ones, but just as I grabbed the vase, it slipped.
The crash on the floor echoed through the apartment, water and glass and wilted petals spreading across the hardwood in a chaotic mess.
Maya's door flew open. She appeared in the living room, eyes wide. "What the hell?"
"I'm fine!" I unintentionally raised my voice. "Just dropped something," a little calmer than the first words.
"Cam, maybe you should rest-"
"I said I'm fine!" I snapped. "Can you just drop it?"
Maya froze. Her expression shifted from concern to something harder.
"You know what? Fine. Handle it yourself."
She disappeared back into her room, slamming the door shut. I just made things worse.
I stood there surrounded by broken glass and dying flowers, chest heaving, mind spinning.
The doorbell rang.
"Maya! Get the door!" I called out, which was stupid since I was very close to the door, plus I just yelled at her for simply caring.
The doorbell rang again. I huffed, stepping carefully around the glass, and yanked open the door.
A delivery guy stood there holding an enormous bouquet of roses. Red ones. Dozens of them arranged in expensive-looking cellophane.
"Camila Sterling?" he asked.
"From who?"
"Doesn't say. Just says it's for you."
Cold settled in my stomach. The R stalker. Of course. Because this day couldn't get any worse.
"You know what?" I smiled sweetly at him. "Thank you so much."
I took the bouquet. Then I raised it above my head and slammed it into the floor as hard as I could.
The delivery guy's eyes went wide. "Ma'am-"
I hit them again. And again. Petals scattered. Stems snapped. The cellophane crinkled and tore under my hands as I destroyed every single flower in that arrangement.
"You're crazy!" The delivery guy backed away, already halfway to the elevator.
I didn't care. I was still beating the flowers against the floor when I heard footsteps running down the hallway. Hands grabbed mine, pulling me upright. Strong hands that I'd know anywhere.
"Camila! What happened?" Lucien's voice was rough with terror. His eyes were wild, scanning me head to toe checking for injuries, maybe. "Are you hurt? Did someone-"
"Nothing happened." I snapped my hands free and threw what was left of the stems away, running my hands through my hair to smooth it down. "The flowers just annoyed me."
"Inside. Now." He practically dragged me into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind us. He guided me to the couch and pushed me down gently. Then he crouched in front of me, hands capturing mine.
That's when I noticed they were shaking.
He took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself before he spoke. "Tell me what really happened."
I opened my mouth to say I was fine again. Everything was fine, nothing was wrong. But tears came instead.
"I hit my toe by the coffee table." The words tumbled out between sobs. "And my shirt got caught on the cabinet. And I spilled water everywhere. And my laptop kept freezing. And the network was so slow I couldn't get anything done. And there was this smell, I don't know what it was, but I couldn't get rid of it. And the traffic outside was so loud I couldn't think."
My whole body shook like a little kid crying over spilled milk. I kept sniffling, wiping at my face with the back of my hand, unable to look at him even though I could feel his eyes on me.
"Fiera." His voice was so gentle it made me cry harder. "Look at me."
I couldn't. If I looked at him, I'd fall apart completely.
"Please." His thumbs traced circles on the backs of my hands. "Look at me."
I forced my eyes up. His face was wrecked. Desperate and terrified and something else I couldn't name.
"I know what the statement looked like." He swallowed hard. "What it made you feel. The board was panicking, investors were calling, Vanessa kept pushing, and I-" His voice cracked. "I made the wrong choice. I erased you again when I swore I never would. I'm so sorry, Camila. I'm begging you to understand. I was trying to protect you and I, but all I did was hurt you."
The sincerity in his voice should have soothed me and made everything okay, but something in me had cracked, and I didn't know how to put it back together.
"I understand," I heard myself say. "It's fine. I'm not mad."
The words were a lie. We both knew it.
He studied my face, reading everything I wasn't saying. "Then why won't you look at me for more than two seconds?"
"I am looking at you."
"Camila-"
"I said I'm fine." I pulled my hands from his, standing up and creating distance. "You did what you had to do. I get it."
"You're lying."
"I'm not-"
"Why didn't you answer when I called?" His voice was harder now. "I called you three times this evening."
"I didn't see it."
"Bullshit." He stood too, closing the distance I'd tried to create. "Ronan threatened to cause you physical harm. There's a van outside registered to his company that's been sitting there for hours. And you're in here destroying flowers and lying to my face about being fine."
"Maybe I just didn't want to talk to you!" The words exploded out before I could stop them.
Silence crashed between us. His eyes darkened. "Finally. The truth."
"You want the truth?" My voice was shaking again, but not from tears this time. From anger and hurt that I'd been holding back all night.
"Fine. Yes, I'm angry. I'm furious. You erased me, Lucien. Again. You stood in front of the entire world and said I was in your past when I'm standing right here in your present. You made me feel like the other woman. Like the dirty secret you have to hide."
"That's not the case, Fiera."
"That's exactly what I am!" My hands fisted at my sides. "I'm the girlfriend you can't acknowledge. The relationship you have to deny every time someone takes a picture of us. I told myself I could handle it. That I understood the situation. But I can't. I can't keep being erased."
His face had gone pale.
"And the worst part?" My voice broke. "The worst part is that Natasha was right. I am pathetic. I'm hiding in the shadows waiting for scraps of attention from a man who'll never choose me publicly. Because that's what this is, isn't it? You choosing your company, your reputation over me."
"That's not true."
"Then prove it." The challenge hung between us. "Choose me. Publicly. Right now. Tell the world the truth."
He looked at me with something that might have been anguish. "You know I can't do that yet."
"Yet." I laughed, hollow and bitter. "There's always a yet. A reason to wait. An excuse to hide."
"It's not an excuse, baby girl."
"I know what it is, Lucien." I wrapped my arms around myself. "I'm just tired of being the woman you love in private and deny in public. I'm tired... I just... I just don't know anymore..."