Thicker Than Water

Chapter Nineteen

I paced the office, staring at my phone. What the hell was I going to say? Was I even going to be able to say anything after I heard his voice? I looked around the empty room, thankful that Mara had allowed me some privacy.

I could feel the heaviness of my heart in my chest. It felt like a foot was pressing down on me, and I couldn't do anything to catch my breath. Ah, my good friend anxiety. I finally hit "Call" and immediately wanted to throw up. It rang two times before I heard a familiar voice.

"Bridget! Are you okay?"

"Hi, Hermes." I slumped down into a velvet chair. "I'm fine."

"You sent me some cryptic message and then turned off your phone. I was worried that you may have been kidnapped by witches again, or something even worse." He sounded exhausted.

I glanced around Mara's office, the smartass inside of me wishing I could make a joke about being with witches.

"No. I'm fine, really. I'm just... hurting a lot." I finally admitted, leaning forward and covering my face with my free hand. The phone was silent for a few moments.

"He's hurting, too, Bridget. I was up with him all night. He has done nothing but drink and cry since you left."

Cry? My tough-as-nails, never-say-die guy?

"I'm so fucking angry, H." I squeezed my fist. "I have been hurt by everyone in my life. He promised me that we would be together forever, and I opened my heart for the first time since I can even remember. He took my heart and crushed it right in his hands."

"He never wanted to hurt you. This thing with his parents has changed everything." I heard a loud noise in the background, and Hermes paused. "Uh, yeah." He answered someone's question that I hadn't heard. "He... he wants to talk to you."

A lump formed in my throat. I wanted to hang up. I wanted to throw my phone in the fireplace and just run. But I knew what I needed to do. This wasn't only about me and my feelings.

"Tell him I'll only talk in person." I gathered my courage. "I'll text you my address."

"We'll leave in ten minutes."

Half an hour later, I sat in my living room, my anxiety even worse than it had been earlier. I had thrown up in the bathroom about a minute after I'd arrived, and it did make me feel a tiny bit better, but my nerves were still shot.

Bridget? Am I in the right place?

Apollo's voice in my head felt so right, and yet so wrong. It was almost as if the man I'd spent the last month or so with was a stranger.

I took a deep, reassuring breath and walked to the door. Moments later, I heard his heavy footsteps come up the steps. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry.

Two reserved knocks reverberated from the door. I took one last deep breath and opened it.

My first thought was about how bad Apollo looked. He had dark circles under his eyes, which were slightly red and blotchy from crying. He was wearing a black zip-up hoodie over a white t-shirt. He was also wearing jeans, which was slightly off-brand for him.

"Hi." He whispered, looking pitiful.

"Hi." I answered back, opening the door fully and stepping back so he could come in.

He walked inside and took his time looking around at my dismal apartment. He wandered over to the living area and sat down on the couch. After I shut the door, I took a seat in the recliner next to him.

"So... this is where you live?" he asked.

I nodded. "This was my life before we met."

"I... I don't like the idea of you living here." He whispered. "You aren't safe. The lock on the front door was busted. Anyone could just come up here-"