Chapter 3

The employee who mouthed off at Elliot was still working here like nothing ever happened.

I lingered a short distance from Elliot's office door.

I wanted to walk in and see what was happening inside.

But what reason did I have?

Drop off some paperwork? I didn't have any direct projects with Elliot. At best, I could only hand them over to his secretary.

I really had no business going in there.

Soon, Macy walked out of the office, her cheeks tinged with a rosy blush.

Her steps had a little bounce, like she couldn't hide her happiness.

The troubled look from earlier had vanished. After closing the door, she glanced back at Elliot inside, her eyes shining with excitement.

*****

Elliot always came off as harsh.

Tonight, it was like something was preoccupying his mind, distracting him.

Unease left a shadow across his face.

We always kept the lights on at night since he was afraid of the dark. It meant I could always see him clearly.

Now he was like someone I barely knew.

I hated venting with sex and pushed him away.

"Did I hurt you?" Elliot asked. He paused, his movements coming to a stop.

"No. Just tired," I replied.

"Did I piss you off again?" he asked.

He grabbed at his hair in frustration, like I'd done something totally unforgivable. He really knew how to flip the blame on me.

Anger hit me out of nowhere, like a tidal wave I couldn't hold back.

Almost detached, I watched myself raise my hand and slap Elliot hard across the face.

A clear handprint stood out on his cheek.

His lashes quivered, and he stared at me, totally stunned.

"Shelby, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you going through menopause or something?" he snapped.

I didn't say a word, just slapped him again.

I kept hitting him until my hand went numb from the impact.

While I was doing it, I felt nothing at all.

I felt detached from the world, like I was sealed off behind a glass dome.

Elliot's expression twisted from confusion to fury. He kept shouting at me, but his words were just a blur, lost in the haze.

In the end, he stopped me, grabbed his clothes off the floor, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

My wrist was bruised where his grip had been too tight. There was a spot where his nails had scratched my skin.

I stared at the blood starting to crust over, and a chill ran through me.

Suddenly, I snapped back to reality.

"Elliot!" I shouted.

As expected, he didn't respond.

I scrambled to get dressed and hurried out the door.

My head was spinning, thoughts all over the place.

I drove around, frantically searching every spot I thought Elliot might go.

But he was nowhere to be found.

The anxiety gnawed at me, getting worse with every empty stop.

Could something have happened to Elliot? But his car was still parked in the garage. He hadn't left.

My head told me he was probably fine, but my heart just wouldn't let it go.

My hands were shaking so badly I was afraid I'd crash, so I pulled over to calm myself down.

Up ahead, the path glowed under the warm yellow streetlights.

Elliot and Macy were standing under a tree.

Macy watched Elliot with worry, clutching a bag from the 24-hour pharmacy in one hand.

With her other hand, she gently stroked his face.

Elliot had an unlit cigarette dangling from his fingers, his eyes narrowed in thought.

I knew that look all too well.

There were times when Elliot's instincts took over, almost animal-like.

Whenever he was relaxed, he'd narrow his eyes, like a contented cat.

If I were the villainous second female lead in some trashy web novel, I'd probably just slam the gas and ram straight into them.

But I wasn't.

So I cruised home, like nothing had ever happened.

When I got to the door, I realized I'd forgotten my keys in my hurry.

I couldn't even remember the passcode, even though I used to have it memorized.

Just my luck. When it rained, it poured.

Not wanting to bother the property management in the middle of the night, I ended up spending the night in my car.

With the heater on, it wasn't that cold.

When I came to, I was surprised to find myself in a hospital bed.

My throat was dry and scratchy, like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper.

Elliot's face drifted into view, looking worn out. The angry red mark I'd left on his cheek had mostly faded.

When he saw me wake up, he smirked at me.

"You slap me, then hole up in your car all night? Shelby, seriously, who does that?" he said.

"I'm not that dumb," I shot back.

I'd left the window slightly open before I went to sleep. I was an adult. I was not about to make a rookie mistake like that.

It wasn't the reason I landed in the hospital. I probably just came down with something.

I could feel the heat radiating from my forehead.

"Shelby, with you, who can tell?" Elliot grumbled, clearly fed up.

He was about to say something else when the hospital room door swung open.

Macy walked in, and when she saw I was awake, she smiled at me.

"Shelby, you really should be careful living by yourself," Macy said. "I had no idea you and Mr. Mallory lived in the same building. I don't think you ever mentioned that before."

I tried to figure out what she really meant.

I glanced over at Elliot.

He looked a little uncomfortable, playing it off like it really was just a coincidence.

His acting was so lame, and yet Macy actually fell for it.

I couldn't decide if Macy was just gullible or straight-up oblivious.

"I brought you some cereal, Miss Denson. You should have a little. No matter how busy things get at the end of the year, you still need to look after yourself," Macy said. "If you fall apart, how are you supposed to help Mr. Mallory make money?"

"Isn't that right, Mr. Mallory?" she teased, glancing over at him.

I smiled.

Her words made it obvious that Macy knew what was up between me and Elliot.

I didn't want to make Macy the scapegoat for all of this.

If it hadn't been her, it would have been someone else.

Trouble only showed up when one left door open.

When it came down to it, in this relationship, Elliot was always calling the shots.