Description : Shopping for a Billionaire 4
Declan’s text says:
“That’s it?” I gasp, Amanda closing her eyes slowly, as if someone reached over with fingertips and shut them, like on a corpse. It is apt; it feels like someone just died. I’m supposed to hop in the shower and get ready for work, but how do you do that when your entire life is imploding?
“He answered, at least.” She reaches in behind the shower curtain and turns on the water for me. A part of me feels infantilized. I can turn on my own damn water. I don’t need help. I know how to use a shower.
Another part of me is helpless and racked with a kind of cryogenic emotional freeze that renders me useless. She leaves the room and gently points to the phone.
The door shuts like her eyelids did just a moment ago, though Chuckles manages to slip in through the inch-sized crack as Amanda leaves. Didn’t cats apany the pharaohs in ancient times as they were laid to rest in their burial crypts?
Something’s dying right now, and as he snuggles up against my ankles without meowing, his presence calm and serene, I feel a deep disturbance inside. Chuckles is being nice to me?
This is bad.
Tremors fill my fingers as I pick up my phone and stare at his sparse text. Two words. I get two measly words? No replies until now, no acknowledgement of the cyber-mess that has made real life an emotional land mine for me.
Just… We’ll talk.
I type back: