“Say something,” I urge him. “Please?”
“I – I’m processing. I’m not sure what to say right now.” He runs a hand across his face. “I did not see this coming. Wow.”
The white-hot anger inside of me starts to forge something hard. I see the way this is going and feel the need to start armoring and protecting myself. As much as it kills me, in the back of my mind, I knew there was a possibility he wouldn’t want anything to do with a child. But there was a part of me that hoped otherwise.
He’s such a different person than the selfish asshole I knew in college, and just in the couple of months we’ve been seeing each other now, I’ve seen him change even more. He’s become kinder, softer, more compassionate. As our feelings for each other have grown, I’ve seen him becoming a better version of himself – one who thinks of others first, rather than himself.
As I look into his flat, almost dead eyes now, though, I see that it was all just an illusion. A mirage – like an oasis in the desert. Now that the chips are down, all pretenses have faded away, and I see him for who he really is. I see that I was very wrong about Sawyer West.
He’s still the same narcissistic, selfish, self-centered asshole I knew him to be back in school.
He hasn’t changed a bit – he’s just learned to make the window dressing around him prettier and more appealing. And people have the nerve to call women honey traps.
“Look, I don’t want anything from you,” I snap. “I just thought you should know. I’m going to have this baby, but don’t worry, I don’t expect you to be a part of our lives.”
“Berlin, I –”
“Save it. Just fucking save it,” I interrupt. “I don’t want a damn thing from you. In fact, just leave me the hell alone. I don’t want to see you again.”
I get to my feet and bolt for his office door but stop and turn around. It feels like there’s a brick – a cold, greasy brick – that’s settled in the pit of my stomach. My heart feels like it’s been torn into a million pieces. My eyes sting with tears, and I feel them rolling down my face. I don’t even bother trying to wipe them away. My vision is blurry as I stare at him. I’ve never felt so alone in all my life.
“I was wrong about you. I was so fucking wrong about you. You’re no different today than you were all those years ago, and I curse the fucking day you walked back into my life,” I cry. “But most of all, I hate myself for believing you’d changed. God damn you, Sawyer.”
“Berlin wait –”
I don’t wait though, and throw his office door open, before sprinting to my office and grabbing my things. I feel the eyes all on me as I rush down the hall and to the elevators. As the doors start to slide closed, I hear Sawyer’s voice calling my name. I stab the button hard and repeatedly, willing the door to close faster and for the car to descend.
Through the gap between the elevator doors, I see Sawyer rushing toward me. I stare him down with tears and fury in my eyes. Thankfully, they finally slide shut before he gets to the car. Once they do, my resolve shatters, and I collapse, my back to the wall. I slide down, ending up on my butt as I sob wildly.
I wrap my arms around myself and squeeze tight, cursing Sawyer and cursing my entire life. But I curse myself for being so fucking stupid – how could I have believed he’d really changed? But most of all, I curse myself for being so stupid as to let myself fall in love with him.
I tip my head back and let out a primal, animalistic scream that fills the elevator car with the sound of my pain.
Chapter Thirty Sawyer
I step off the elevator and find Berlin’s apartment door. I don’t know that this is the wisest course of action, but given how she stormed out of the office yesterday, I’m thinking this may be my only course of action.
She didn’t show up at work today. I was hoping that after she had a night to cool off and take the emotion out of the situation, cooler heads would prevail, and we could talk about it like adults. At the very least, I hoped she’d give me a chance to talk.
But apparently, I was foolish to think that was even a possibility. And so, here I am outside her door. About to have one of the most consequential conversations in my entire life. What we say here is going to impact the rest of our lives.
Assuming she’ll even open the door for me, that is.
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly, and then rap on the door sharply. I hear footsteps approaching, and a moment later, a tiny woman in her mid-twenties with dark hair and darker eyes opens the door. She looks me up and down with a look of utter disdain on her face. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t even make that face at a pile of dog shit she just stepped in.
“Well, you must be Nadia,” I announce. “And I’m guessing my reputation precedes me.”
She makes a scoffing sound. I’m pretty sure she just rolled her eyes so hard; she got a good look at her brain.
“What do you want?” she spits.
“I’d
