C16, PT. 4

Snowflakes rained down as she exited the vehicle. She hustled into 432 Park Avenue. Johan rode up in the elevator with her. She said a quiet, “Thank you,” as she entered the penthouse. Before the doors closed, she whipped out her cell phone and dialed Roth.

The phone rang once, twice, three times. On the last ring before it went to voicemail, he answered.

“Yes?”

His voice was clipped and irritated. Her fingers tightened on the phone.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you what happened with Ariana.”

“Hold on.”

She wasn’t sure whether he was talking to her or someone else, but she waited. There were a multitude of voices. It wasn’t the quiet murmur of a boardroom. It sounded more like a party or celebration. Sound became muffled as he pressed the phone against his shirt or put it in a pocket, and then he was back, without any background noise.

“What happened?”

She gave him a quick rundown of the intervention and finished with, “Do you think I did the right thing, not involving Rami or Colette?”

Before he could answer, there was a knock in the background and a female voice.

“Two minutes,” Roth called, and her heart sank.

“I’m sorry I interrupted. I went by the office. They said you were in Los Angeles?”

“Yes.”

No apology or explanation, just an acknowledgement, as if he was down the street at a restaurant, not a six-hour flight away.

“I wish you told me.” She tried to keep her voice light and airy. “I was free today. I could have accompanied you. It would have been nice to take a break from the cold. I could have gone to the beach while you worked.”

“I have to go,” he said abruptly. “I’ll call you back.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear as he hung up. She stared at the display until the screen darkened. She hadn’t allowed her imagination to run riot and given him the benefit of the doubt, but what the fuck was that? The urge to call him back and demand answers warred with her Hennessy conditioning that said business came first. They could always handle their personal issues later.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed frozen in place, but she slowly registered the absolute quiet. No voices from anyone working in her office, and her phone was blessedly silent.

She made her way to the kitchen to carry on reading her reports, but she couldn’t focus. She dismissed what happened last night, but now it came back full force. She’d been trying to provoke his beast, but he stayed in control, came, and rolled out of bed before her breath evened out. He said he had to make a call and left before she could say a word. She’d been taken aback and felt a niggle of rejection, which she instantly squelched. She fell asleep before he came to bed. When she woke up, he was already gone for the day. Or maybe he hadn’t come to bed at all. She’d dismissed the incident, but now she wondered…

Her mind frantically raked through their interactions over the past two weeks and kept circling back to that wild fuck they had after the gym. That day, as she lazed in bed, he called several times to check on her. And when he came home, he’d been contrite and attentive, but the next day was the first time he missed dinner. He apologized. She shrugged it off and ate the assortment of Italian desserts she requested for him before turning in for the night. The day after that, he was two hours late. The following, he cancelled again, and she stopped having their dinner delivered. Was that deliberate on his part? To stop arriving home at a specific time to interrupt their new routine?

He hadn’t initiated sex, so she had. He was gentle and sweet, but she sensed him trying to distance himself from her. There was no dirty talk and no reassurances that she would always have him. He barely made eye contact. She tried to break through and unleash his dark side, but he kept it under lock and key. She thought his uncharacteristic reticence was because he was worried about hurting her again, but was it something else? Had he fulfilled his fantasy of witnessing her complete subjugation where she wanted to please him more than she wanted air, and now he was done? Her stomach lurched. He acted like he couldn’t get enough, told her he needed her, then went cold again. Had he succeeded in working her out of his system and she hadn’t caught the hint?

She reached for her phone with hands that were shaking so bad, she dropped it twice. She paced around the island as she called him back. This time, he didn’t pick up, even though she called three times in a row.

Had she been unconsciously filling her schedule because she didn’t want to face the fact that their newlywed bliss was already waning? She stared unseeing at the view. A month ago, the possibility that he was tiring of her would have had her skipping around the penthouse in excitement. Now, she was on the verge of a panic attack because she hadn’t gotten her fill yet and she… A tear slipped down her cheek.

When her phone rang, she leapt for it, only to see it was Daiyu calling, not Roth. She resisted the urge to smash her phone into pieces and tried to get a hold of herself. She wasn’t going to lose hope. Not yet. Perhaps he was negotiating the biggest deal of his life and couldn’t call her back. She would wait.

She kept herself busy. She took a shower and wrapped all the gifts she stashed in the guest room. She unearthed the clothes she bought for Roth in Denmark and noted the size on the tag, so someone would benefit from the warm clothes she planned to take to a shelter.

 When that was done, she reorganized the closet and called Johnny, who was thrilled to hear from her. She listened to him talk about his latest string of clients and his friends she met when they were in Lisbon.

“Have you made up your mind to move to Portugal yet?” Johnny demanded.

She glanced out of the windows at the swirling white and said, “Almost.”

“Bebe,” Johnny sighed. “You could be sitting here, drinking wine, and watching the sunset with us instead of being in that big, lonely city by yourself.” When she didn’t speak, his tone sharpened. “Where’s Roth?”

“He’s out of town for the day.” She cleared her throat. “By the way, I’m sending out some Christmas gifts for you two.” When Johnny protested, she snapped, “Just accept it or Roth will do more than just pick up the tab at our next meal!”

She enjoyed her talk with Johnny, but it didn’t last long enough. When darkness fell, she called Roth again. It went straight to voicemail. She messaged Mo and Johan, asking if they knew when he would be flying back. They said they would contact his security. Hours passed.

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.

Copyright © 2024 Mia Knight. All Rights Reserved.