Rich People Problems

xiv | the aftermath

KIMBERLY

IT WAS EITHER the sound of the shower turning off or the massive hangover I was experiencing that woke me up. I may have gotten a little carried away last night, the memories from the night hitting me like a truck.

I looked over to see a glass of water on the nightstand, not wasting a second to pick it up and down the contents.

A stupid mistake. Jace stepped out of the bathroom, a loose towel hanging around his waist. With cheeks full of water and wide eyes, I stared... hard.

Then, the overwhelming sensation of nausea prompted me to rush into the bathroom, throwing up all the contents of my stomach.

My hair was immediately pulled back in a makeshift bun as Jace stood over me. "Thanks for reminding me why I don't drink."

"Shut up," I murmured, waiting for the nausea to pass, the feeling of his hand rubbing my back through his shirt oddly comforting me.

When I was sure I wouldn't throw up anymore, I rinsed my mouth and brushed the taste out, replacing it with fresh mint.

"I have to head into the office today," he stated. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Irritation surged through me.

I don't know why, but I hated how he was trying to look after me now. I didn't need it nor want it from anyone... most certainly, not from him.

"I'll be fine," I gritted out, moving past him.

What's wrong with me?

He rolled his eyes at my attitude. "Good."

Without another word, he left the bedroom. A little under ten minutes later, I heard the door slam shut, inducing a heavy stream of tears out of my eyes.

God, I couldn't do this anymore. Everything about this arrangement felt so wrong.

I made a promise to him and here I was... with another man.

I hated myself so much.

I needed to get out of here. I needed space. I needed... needed... I didn't know what I needed.

All I wanted was for these thoughts to just go away. All I wanted was peace.

The blurry vision made it difficult to pack, but I still did it, haphazardly throwing all my clothes and shit into the luggages. I called our private jet's pilot to let him know that I wanted to leave within the next two hours and didn't want Dad to know.

If he found out, I'd be bugged with incessant calls, and I really didn't have the energy to deal with it right now.

He must've sensed the desperation in my voice because he said I could head to the airport within the hour.

So, what did I do to pass the time? Cry my fucking heart out.

The void inside felt like it was growing by the day. The guilt from how I felt with Jace around made it get bigger exponentially, until I felt nothing but the hollowness of my insides.

As much as I depended on faking it, the exhaustion that came with always pretending you were fine was enervating. I could sleep for a hundred days straight and it wouldn't be enough.

After the hour was up, I left Jace a chaotic note and called for a bellhop to help me with my bags into the uber that was waiting for me.

But, no matter what I did, the tears still fell, emptying the reserve I had been filling up with pain for so long.