56. Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Six

Anna

" H oly shit ," Cedar calls as soon as we walk through the glass doors of the twenty-four-hour café that's just two blocks away from my apartment. "They've got books !"

I grin when a flash of black hair brushes past me and disappears somewhere near the few shelves the owner keeps stocked with some of her favorite romance novels.

By the time Aria and I order fancy hot chocolate and make our way to a table, Cedar emerges with an arm full of books that she slams onto the tiny table and beams around. "I've read all of these."

Aria shakes her head. "I knew you were a nerd."

Cedar smacks her lips and snags the cup from Aria's lifting grasp. "Like you haven't benefited from a smutty book or two, woman."

The resulting snicker has my own grin amping up. "How are you two not related?"

"Oh, we are." Aria cocks her head at me. "It's called found family and you're our newest member."

My mouth drops open, then slams shut when the words evade me and warmth blossoms in my chest.

"Now," Cedar interrupts, peeking at me around her stack of already-read treasures and sips from the stolen cup against her palm. "Either we talk about books, or we talk about boys. Spill the deets."

A flush takes over my face and I shake my head. "This was a terrible idea."

"Never," Aria exclaims. "Now spill about Toby. We can talk about books later."

Dragging in a deep breath, my eyes dart over to the bodyguard taking up most of the front window, his back to us.

"Don't worry about him," Cedar says, waving him off with her cup holding hand. "Jon doesn't listen to shit unless Squirt is around."

I nod and drag my sight away from the buzzed head that's just far enough away, but lean closer into the table anyways. "So what do you wanna know?"

Aria snorts and mirrors my pose. "Is he good?"

My eyes go wide.

"Does he eat out?" Cedar asks over the stack of books and I can feel the heat take over my face.

"Okay, so both of those are a yes, if the redness is any indication." Aria leans back with a knowing smirk. "Is it dickmatized or for real?"

I blink.

And blink.

What have I done?

"Right," Cedar adds, oh so helpfully. "Well, if we're still not cool with lap dances even though he's been gone this long, then it's gotta be for real, Ari."

"Have you seen him? At rehab?" Aria asks.

I force out a breath that moves the hair near my forehead. "I was with Leo when we took him."

"Oh," Aria states, her brows dipping. "You haven't been to see him?"

I shake my head and feel my shoulders drooping. "No, I haven't."

"Why?"

It's a simple question. Easy to ask when you're on the outside like Cedar is, easy to want to know when you haven't seen the things that I have.

I lick my drying lips, then take a sip from the to-go cup in my hand to give myself a moment.

I'm slow to swallow the scolding mouthful, thankful for its distraction while I set the cup back on the table between me and the women dead set on knowing me.

When I look up to find concern lining both of their features, Cedar's blue eyes blazing in a different way than Aria's, I decide to speak the truth.

My truth.

The reason I'm here. Why I took a job like this to begin with.

How I already knew about addiction when I interviewed with Leo.

And why I can't stick around any longer.

I clear my throat. "I—"

A ring cuts off my words and my brow furrows when neither woman in front of me reaches for their pockets or bags.

"Oh, crap." I feel the color drain from my face as I pull the device out with trembling hands from my tiny clutch.

"Hey, Mama," Toby's gruff tone greets me like a calm to my internal storm, a salve to my aching heart, and I stumble off the stool and away from prying ears. "You watching TV?"

Crap, crap, crap .

When I answered, I forgot that I was leaving Toby hanging most nights.

We've talked on the phone, but I haven't talked at all.

What do I say?

The heat rises up my chest, and I pinch my blouse away, using the material to fan my face.

If I say nothing, he touches himself. If I speak, then I've broken the promise I made to myself to move on, leave him be.

Shaking my head, I push out of the little café, past the bodyguard, and into the thick night air.

Except, the sounds of traffic echo around me and I still don't find the answers I'm looking for.

"It's like I can hear you thinking too loud," he mutters into the phone, and I stop, looking skyward.

"Talk to me about it. Maybe I can help."

What if it's you?

"What's going on?"

With every night I postpone the inevitable, I lose another piece of my soul.

"Look, I don't have to keep calling like this. I'd love to, but I understand if you don't."

His solid breathing fills my ear despite the world crashing in around me.

A truth I know all too well. A pain I refuse to live with a second time.

I'm in love with an addict who will never put me first.

"This is goodbye, Toby."