Drifting Deception

Chapter Thirty-Three

SYDNEY

Henry came out of the shower half an hour later. It was the longest he'd ever spent in there. And the shower was running the whole time.

"Are you okay?" I asked as he opened the bathroom door.

He nodded, but I could sense something was on his mind. He wandered over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He poured me a small one too.

"Thanks," I said as he handed me the glass. He walked to the spare space on the bed, swirling the crystal glass as he lowered his body. Judging by the way his body flopped onto the mattress, this wasn't a celebratory glass. 

He was wearing a tight gym shirt and navy sweatpants. His relaxed look was a contrast to his demeanour, which was emanating almost tangible stress.

I took a sip of the straight liquor, the liquid burning my throat and warming my chest. I would've shied away from the alcohol in any other instance, but tonight, for this conversation, I needed it.

"I can't believe it actually happened," I said because I knew Henry wasn't going to say anything.

"He has some balls travelling over here," Henry scoffed. "I figured he would've given a warning beforehand...like a call or a text. Like any decent human would do."

I nodded. "I know."

He took another sip from his drink, which turned into a large gulp as he emptied the glass. "Do you want him?" he asked, once he swallowed the liquor.

I want you, I thought. "I don't know," I whispered.

Henry's eyes sank as he held in a breath. He shook his head—as if to snap himself out of something—and smiled. "You should talk to him. Maybe then you'll get an answer for yourself."

I already know my answer. "I think that's a good idea," I agreed. My tone had hints of fabrications, and I was worried he'd catch on to my lack of honesty. "What will be the reason for our breakup?" 

Henry's smile faded as his eyes sank. "Let's just say we couldn't see it working in the long run. Our lives are too different. We're not compatible. It was never going to work."

Ouch. I knew his words were scripted, but I couldn't help but feel as if there was a flicker of truth behind them. He didn't think we could be together because we were too different. Despite our heart-to-heart last night, I knew he didn't want a girlfriend. That wasn't his vibe. He said it himself, if you have another half, the margin for error lessens. He wouldn't dare have another person to care for in his life because that opened the door for greater disappointment.

It was never going to work, and I wasn't enough to change his mind.

I felt my eyes swell up, and I had to dig my nails into my palms to distract myself. I couldn't cry. This wasn't a real break-up. It wasn't a real relationship—hell, at this point I didn't know if this was a real friendship.

"Thank you for everything you've done, not just with the arrangement," I said. "You've really helped me understand myself better, and I won't forget any of this. I won't forget you."

Henry smiled as he held his hands in mine. "Don't let anyone treat you less than you deserve. You know your worth now."

You're worth it. 

"I do," I whispered because speaking out loud was going to make my voice crack. I looked at the roof. "Remember the day we made this arrangement." I forced a quiet chuckle.

Henry's gaze softened. "How could I forget it? I thought, damn, now I get to spend all of my time with the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, even if she's slightly scary."