Little Black Break (Little Black Book #2) (14 page)

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Authors: Tabatha Vargo,Melissa Andrea

BOOK: Little Black Break (Little Black Book #2)
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“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“I’ll just give you guys a minute,” Trish muttered.

Before I could stop her, she moved around Sebastian and went through the door and out of the private space leading to the dressing rooms.

“What’s wrong, Sebastian?” I asked again. “You’re scaring me.”

He was completely different from the night before when he’d cried and then made love to me. He was stern. Cold. Uncaring. He reminded me of the man he was when I’d first met him. All stiff and broken. Black inside and out.

In the pit of my stomach, I knew whatever he was about to stay was going to destroy my world, but I was helpless to stop him from ripping out my heart and tearing it into a million pieces.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to tell you this, Rosslyn…”

I folded my arms across my chest and held myself tightly. It was hardly a means of protecting myself, but it was the best I could do. If he couldn’t see my heart, he couldn’t break it.

“Tell me what?”

His eyes never left mine as he just stood there looking empty and nothing like the Sebastian I knew and loved deeply. I couldn’t stand there in silence, and as each second ticked by, the hole forming in my heart was widening. I was sure if he didn’t speak soon, I’d bleed to death internally.

“What, Sebastian? Spit it out already!” I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, but the worry and the way he was looking at me was too much to bear.

And then he spoke, shattering my world and swiping away all the happiness I’d just began to finally accept as my own.

“I can’t do this, Rosslyn.”

I swallowed hard, pushing down the pain that threatened to choke me.

Maybe I’d just heard him wrong. Maybe he was talking about something completely different. Maybe he was talking about our sudden vacation plans. It was hard for a man like Sebastian to just up and leave without planning things down to every detail. Perhaps, something was going on at the club that needed his immediate attention and he couldn’t leave right now.

Even as I thought these things, I knew I was delusional. Nothing as silly as a canceled vacation would make Sebastian show up to my dress appointment. Nothing so small would make him intrude on my moment—breaking the tradition of seeing my wedding dress before the big day.

We’d talked about it.

With the loss of my parents on our wedding day, he understood how much those silly traditions meant to me.

“You can’t do what exactly?”

His expression shifted, and I briefly saw the sad man I’d held in my arms the night before. And then, just as quickly as he’d let it slip, he dropped his mask of indifference back into place.

“This.” He motioned to the space around us. The mannequins wearing white. The wedding bliss of the bridal shop. “Any of this. I can’t marry you.”

He said the words without the slightest bit of hesitation. As if it was a simple business meeting, and he was stating the very firm details of our arrangement. There I was, slowly melting and dying inside, while he stood tall, sure in his decision to destroy everything we’d found in each other.

“I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

“This isn’t me, Rosslyn. I’m not this kind of man.” He shrugged casually. “I thought I could do this. I thought I could give everything up for you and be your husband. I thought I could make you my wife, but I can’t.”

“You’re a fucking liar!” I spat.

I didn’t believe a word he was saying. Sebastian loved me. I was the game changer. He’d always told me so. For two years, he’d been loyal to me—letting me into his darkness—opening up to me in a way I never thought he was capable of.

He was lying.

No matter what he said, he was lying.

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You can start by telling me the fucking truth! Why are you doing this? What’s the real reason?”

“I’m not lying. I thought if we went away, I could get past this, but I realized today that I can’t. This isn’t cold feet. This is truth. I’m a man accustomed to living a certain way. And while the last few years have been an adjustment for me, one that I thought I could handle, it’s not what I want. I don’t want you. I can’t marry you.”

My stomach hollowed and nausea swept through me.

“You bastard,” I choked. I hadn’t realized it, but tears were already rushing down my cheeks, mixing with my mascara and leaving black dots on the front of my perfect wedding dress.

Again, his mask slipped and a streak of pain moved over his expression.

“Rosslyn-” He took a step forward, his arm reaching out for me, but I stepped back before he could touch me.

“Don’t touch me!” I hissed. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me, Sebastian.”

“I’m-”

“Don’t.” I held up my hand to stop him. I couldn’t hear anymore. His words were ripping me to shreds. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry.”

We stood there staring at each other. Time stood still and all sound, except my broken sobs and useless attempts to breathe, ceased. I was coming apart at the seams and the last person in the world I wanted to witness that was the man staring back at me.

I wanted him gone. I didn’t want to look at him. It hurt too much. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I just wanted to be alone.  

“Leave,” I said.

“Rosslyn-”

“I said get out, Sebastian. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say. You said what you came to say. Now, please leave me the hell alone.”

He opened his mouth to say more, but I was positive I couldn’t bear to hear anything else he had left to say. Turning around, I waited for him to leave so I could come undone alone. I watched him from the mirror, and his eyes caught mine for a few seconds before he turned around and left the room.

I closed my eyes against the pain, and when I opened them again, I stared at my reflection. My eyes moved over the dress I’d finally settled on, taking in the mascara stains. Only minutes before, I’d felt so radiant—more beautiful than I’d ever felt in my entire life—but now, I looked broken. I looked terrible. I was a disgrace to the beautiful dress that I’d ruined with my tears.

He’d left me. He shattered me and scattered the pieces all over the bridal salon. The man I loved more than anything in the world had just destroyed my world, and he’d done it while I was wearing the dress I’d planned to wear when I married him.

 

 

 

 

 

NOTHING IN THE WORLD WAS more beautiful than Rosslyn in her wedding dress. Seeing her standing there, her hair pinned up and her cheeks flushed with happiness, I almost turned and walked away without completing my mission.

I almost put her life in danger for my own selfish desires to make her mine.

To keep her.

To see her walking down the aisle and becoming mine forever.

But I pushed through and I broke her heart and pushed her away.

It hurt more than anything I’d ever experienced. More than watching her mother and father die. More than being shot in the chest. The pain was unbearable.

Watching her face transform from complete and total happiness to devastation was like watching a fossil form.

Hard and never ending.

And once she began to cry and I watched her black tears ruin her perfect dress, I broke.

I stopped at the front of the bridal salon, and I paid for the dress. And then when I felt like my heart was almost about to stop, I fled the salon and practically ran into Mac, who was sitting outside keeping watch as I had asked.

“Everything okay, Black?”

I nodded, not being able to collect enough oxygen to speak. Once I found my voice, I said the only thing that came to my mind.

“Find him. Bring him to me. End this.”

 

 

 

 

 

TWO HOURS.

That was how long it had been since my world came crumbling down around me. Once Sebastian left me in the bridal salon, I’d stood there for God knows how long and stared at myself in the mirror crying like an idiot.

Trish came in and hugged me as she tried to get me to tell her what happened, but I couldn’t say it out loud. It hurt too badly even to think about it, much less talk about it.

She and the two salesladies helped me remove my ruined dress, which I later found out Sebastian had paid for before he left the shop. They wrapped it as if the excitement of the moment was still there and sent me on my way with a dress I’d never wear.

Mac was standing outside by the car when I left the shop. I barely remembered saying good-bye to Trish then I climbed into the back of the sleek black car avoiding eye contact with Mac.

Mac took the large package from me and placed it in the trunk of the car.

My wedding dress.

My beautiful, ruined wedding dress.

After all that time I had gone back and forth over how expensive it was, Sebastian had purchased it like the money was nothing. He’d seen me in it. He’d watched me ruin the dress as I cried for him.

“Home?” Mac asked from the front seat.

His tone was soft and gentle, and I found his eyes in the rearview mirror. The lines around his face were sympathetic, and I wondered if he knew what had just happened inside the bridal shop. If I knew Sebastian, Mac didn’t know everything, but he was a smart man and he could put the pieces together.

I didn’t have anywhere else to go, even though Trish had offered me a place to stay. Briefly, her words moved through my mind.

 

“Just come home with me, Roz. There’s plenty of room. At least, until you guys work this out.”

 

I couldn’t even remember if I’d responded to her as I sat in the back of the car and contemplated my next move. I just knew I couldn’t go with her. I needed to go home. Even though he’d hurt me worse than anyone else in my life ever had, I wasn’t ready to give up on Sebastian completely.

“Yes,” I muttered.

I stared out the window as the city passed me by, and I silently prayed that I was having a terrible nightmare.

 

 

THE CLUB WAS MOSTLY EMPTY with just a few employees prepping for the night. I passed Sebastian’s closed office door on the way up to the condo, and I contemplated going in and trying to talk him out of his decision.

Instead, I climbed the stairs to our condo. It felt wrong to go back there since he’d all but kicked me to the curb, but I wasn’t thinking straight. Since leaving the store, I felt like a zombie. I was numb to everything. As we pulled up to the club, Mac had to all but pick me up out of the car.

As soon as I entered the condo, I went to the kitchen for a glass of water. My throat was dry, as if I’d spent the afternoon drinking sand, and I needed to clear it out. Before I pulled open on the cabinet, my eyes caught a single sheet of paper lying on the counter. Sebastian’s jagged handwriting jumped off the page at me.

 

 

I wanted to rip his letter to shreds and tell him exactly where he could shove it, but I didn’t. Instead, I collapsed on the cold kitchen floor, pulled my knees to my chest, and cried.

Really, what else could I do?

I needed to figure out my next step, too, and I needed to do it fast.

 

 

TWO WEEKS.

That was how long it had been since my world and happiness were snatched away from me so quickly—since Sebastian stepped into my dressing room and ripped my heart out. Two hours after he left me, I stopped crying and pulled myself together. I spent the rest of the day trying to convince myself that Sebastian was just freaking out. I tried to convince myself that he had a simple case of cold feet, even though he’d so plainly said that wasn’t the case.

At about four in the morning, when I realized that Sebastian wasn’t coming back to the condo after work, I stopped trying to convince myself he’d bust through the door and beg me to forgive him. I laid in the bed we once shared feeling lower than low.

What kind of woman stayed in the home of the man who’d just crushed her heart?

Me.

That was the kind of woman.

By the time the sun came shining through the windows, I had a plan. Instead of packing my things and living with Trish, I’d stay in the condo and hope that he’d fold and come to me—that he’d cry on my shoulder and ask my forgiveness once more.

So for two weeks, that was what I did.

It was sick—my desire to remain close to him—but I couldn’t help it. I spent my days watching soap operas and laying around in a sad state of depression. Every time I heard a noise outside the door, I held my breath and silently prayed it was Sebastian finally giving in.

Some days, Mac would come up and retrieve a few things for Sebastian, but he didn’t ever come on his own. Mac could hardly look at me, and our playful banter ceased to exist. Sebastian had drawn a line in the sand; he and Mac were on one side while I was left alone on the other.

I was the last person Sebastian wanted to see and he made that perfectly clear each time Mac came up here to retrieve small things. Sebastian couldn’t even bring himself to get his own clothes and risk seeing me. Meanwhile, my heart ached for him. I missed him so much it was making me sick.

Food became my biggest enemy. I had no appetite whatsoever. I couldn’t even look at or smell food without getting sick. And on the days when I’d finally give in and nibble on something to stop my stomach from hurting, I’d get sick again. I couldn’t hold anything down.

It was that serious.

The depression.

The sadness.

I was angry and confused and all of it was making me sick. So sick that over the course of two weeks, I’d lost four pounds. Apparently, I couldn’t handle heartbreak.

Trish called every day to check on me and try to convince me to move in with her. I turned her down each time and then I’d cry. I was a mess, but when Kyle called every other day to check in, I’d pretend everything was fine. As far as he knew, the wedding was still on and everything was just perfect. I didn’t want him worrying about anything but his education.

Finally, after two weeks of being completely miserable, Mac showed up at the door with a message from Sebastian.

“He wants to see you,” he said without making eye contact.

I was getting so tired of Mac not being able to look me in the face. As if by just looking at me, he was breaking some kind of unspoken rule against Sebastian. He was there for me when Sebastian told him to be there for me. He drove me places, picking up things at the store for me when I needed something and didn’t feel like going inside. But he barely spoke to me.

It hurt.

I’d considered Mac a friend, and it was hard getting the cold shoulder from him, too.

“Did he say why?”

I knew as I asked the question that Mac had no idea what Sebastian wanted. By now, Mac had figured out Sebastian and I weren’t together anymore. It was obvious since Sebastian and I never spoke to each other and Sebastian was sleeping in his office.

At least, I thought he was. I had yet to actually see him go in or come out of his office.

Then a thought struck me … what if he had pulled out his black book again?

What if he was spending his nights with his girls?

No.

Sebastian wouldn’t do that to me.

He couldn’t do that me.

“He didn’t,” Mac answered. “He just said please come to his office if you could.”

“Okay. I’ll be down in a bit.”

And then I watched as Mac left the condo.

Once he was out of sight, I ran to the bathroom and turned on the shower. If Sebastian wanted to see me, then I wanted him to see exactly what he was missing.

I showered and shaved everything, putting on his favorite bra and panty set and a dress that I knew drove him crazy.

Afterward, I did my hair, curling it to perfection and leaving it down in waves the way I knew he loved, and then I applied just enough makeup to make my green eyes pop.

An hour later, I was taking the stairs down to Sebastian’s office with my heart in my throat and a strangling sense of hope beating against the back of my heart.

I tapped on his office door instead of barging in. I felt as if I’d been transported to the past. I could remember how intimidating Sebastian used to be to me. Back before I’d gotten to know him and fallen completely and madly in love with him. Before he opened up for me and showed me everything he really was—showed me the beauty of his true colors.

I wanted that man to be on the other side of the door when I opened it, but instead, I was met with Sebastian Black.

Club owner.

Carefree playboy.

His eyes were cold as he raked them over my body and my hope popped like a bubble when I got no reaction whatsoever from him.

He turned away and patted a stack of papers against the top of his desk.

“Rosslyn.”

Even the way he said my name held no warmth. I missed the way he’d grin and say my name.

Moan my name.

Beg me and love me.

“Sebastian.”

“I’m glad you could meet with me,” he said, in his business tone, still not looking at me.

Meet with him?

What the hell was this?

A business meeting?

I suddenly felt like I was experiencing Deja vu and Sebastian was seconds away from propositioning me with a condo and money in order to use my body when he saw fit. I was surprised he hadn’t reverted to calling me
Jessica
again.

I didn’t hate the name. In fact, I’d received many nights of pleasure being called that name. Even recently, when Sebastian had been in a particularly playful mood during sex, he’d called me his favorite cartoon character. I didn’t mind it, but as I stared across his office at the cold figure he cut out, I could honestly say that it was the last name I’d ever want to be called.

“Of course, I’d come when you called, Sebastian. Anything you want. Anything.”

I hated how desperate I sounded, but I was desperate. I didn’t care about any wedding ceremonies.

Any flowers.

Any dresses.

If it were the wedding plans that made him fly the coop, then it could all go away. I didn’t need it. I just needed him.

“Stop.” His voice was firm—stern—making me straighten.

“Stop what?”

“Stop with the sweet shit. It’s not going to work.” His eyes moved my way briefly, and I thought maybe I saw the pain in them, but just as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Then he was back to looking away from me. “I called you here for a reason.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t because I felt like at any moment I was going to break down in tears and that was the last thing I wanted to do in front of Sebastian. Especially after his rude words to me. However, just because I wasn’t crying didn’t mean tears weren’t clouding my vision.

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