CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT ⇆ ANGELINA
My legs keep bouncing, up and down, up and down. Anxiety rushing through my veins at an incredibly fast pace.
Those past days have been a living hell with Rowan breathing down my neck, the tense eye contacts, the awkward interactions, I genuinely couldn't take it anymore, so here I'm.
Spending most of my day with my agent, practicing here and there with models, yet, my mind still seemed somewhere else, completely different place,
Rowan still didn't make an effort to defend himself.
Which disappointed me further, I really don't know why, maybe because I still clung to that hope, the hope of him being misunderstood, but well, at this point, I'm just tricking myself.
"Since you missed the show last week, you need to attend this one, you're missing on your best opportunities to shine, Angelina." Sophia warns, measuring my waist with a tape and then doing the same with the dress in her hand, stretching the material.
"This is x-small, think it'll fit?" She tilts her head to the side, it probably won't, "Uh, I wear small." I explain what she already knows, "I know but this can be like...an extremely tight type of a dress if you know what I mean." She offers lightly, arching a suggestive brow.
I sigh and slip on the said dress, it's definitely fucking tight, but well, it looks stunning I can see that, it's a one long-sleeved slim green dress, a couple of shimmers along the neckline, enhancing my collar bones.
"Perfect." She analyzes in satisfaction, it makes victory rush through my body but the other emotions inside of me are overwhelming, I can't even feel victorious for a moment without something cutting me off.
I needed a stronger distraction, I think of what Vera or Aurelia would say about this, I still haven't informed either of them about what's happening, mainly cause I can't talk about it, I'm avoiding this as much as I can.
Cause the moment I do, I'll break, sobs and tears, I'm not ready for that, Rowan's constant presence is already keeping me on edge, the only reply I get from them in my thoughts at least is something along the lines of get laid.
That's probably what Vera would say, I can definitely see her doing it, it'll be a temporary kind of a distraction since I already attempted it before, but well, I'm desperate for anything at the moment.
Moments later after I'm done with today's work, I get dressed back in my casual clothes, the hoodie and sweat pants, placing my sun glasses on the top of my head.
I'm getting my phone tonight.
That means two things, first one, I can finally escape the presence of Rowan Russo, physically for now, because I fucking know that he won't leave my mind, not now, never possibly.
Second thing, I can get laid, well, I dodge the idea of just walking into a bar and finding a great fuck, I don't have the energy, so I'll finally use Asher's name that's been saved up my contacts for months now.
It's a month and a couple of days but I'm in the mood for being dramatic.
After what seems like a long beat of contemplating possibilities, I walk out of the room, the cold air hits me and I breathe in the fresh scent, feeling my tense muscles slightly calm as I approach my Jeep.
Getting inside with a thud, breathing out, that's the only way that works to calm me down when I'm on the verge of snapping like right now, it's a psychological habit I learnt through therapy.
Yeah, therapy, went to it after Nichola's shit, it was the cherry on top to the misery I felt due to the fallout of my earlier friendship with Rowan, it didn't help at all at the beginning.
And I felt like giving up, so much, but what would happen after that? Still live the same miserable life again? Would that make me satisfied? No so I decided to give it another try just for the sake of proving myself right, that it won't work.
I was proven wrong, it helped, a lot actually, I'm not the same person I was years ago, and a lot of my so called 'friends' started distancing themselves away after that, it hurt like a bitch, I hated that lonely feeling, because I didn't choose the loneliness.
I wasn't just alone.
I was lonely.
And till this day, the feeling might as well be one of the worst things I've ever felt, maybe cause I always had a person beside me, to be my anchor, my friend, it felt like the world fell apart back then.
Until months passed, and it became normal, I grew comfortable in it, it wasn't lovely, I won't lie, but it wasn't as awful as it started, fuck, I release a harsh breath as I park in front of my apartment.
The songs I'm blasting through the cassette to distract me dimming in the background of my unstoppable thoughts.
I need to get my shit together before I get upstairs, to a house full of Rowan.
He's not avoiding me, it's the other way around which shouldn't be the matter, I start jogging upstairs, ignoring the erratic heartbeats in my chest as I clink the keys together and the door slowly opens.
I step inside, sighing, I find Rowan in the kitchen, house dark, with a glass of wine in his hand as he takes a short sip, staring ahead of him, clearly unfocused, but he startles when I come into view.
"Angelina." I've always wanted him to call me by my full name, but now it just hurts, I stare at him, not knowing if I'm able to hide my emotions, or if they're all over my face.
"Rowan." I mutter back, voice stern and thick, he swallows and averts his gaze away, "She said that I was anxious, Perturbed, agitated." He rambles on, bitterness drips from his tone.
Is he drunk?
Confusion fills my body, "Who? Who's she?" I can't help but ask since he ain't making any sense, he shakes his head repeatedly "It doesn't entirely matter, excuses, and more of them." He snarls and stands up.
Approaches me, my chest heaves with breaths as he places my phone in my palm, eyes finding mine in a haze, he looks exhausted as if he's been fighting something for so long and is slightly giving up, I want to help him, but I can't.
Not at all, he can't even explain what the fuck is going on, "Rowan." I start, not knowing exactly what I'm about to say, as he looks up to me, desperation in his eyes, "If you'll tell me to leave, just don't, Angelina, I'm doing it either way." He says harshly, his voice aggressive to say the least.
My brows furrow deeper, "There's something I don't understand." I protest, he nods, "A lot, a fucking lot." He confirms and my confusion doesn't lessen, not at all.
"It's over." He says after a beat and my stomach flips, "The deal, you're free of me, for now at least, I'm going back to New York." He explains and agony fills my bones as I smile weakly.
"You're just giving up." I state, I don't know why I'm saying this, it feels as if history is repeating itself, as if I'm begging him to stay again, he shakes his head repeatedly, "I'm not giving up on you, but whether you want it or not, Angelina, you need me out of your life to sort my shit together first." He explains.
I narrow my eyes, ignoring the way my heart is tugging in my chest, "So you're saying that you're doing this for me?" I snarl, unable to hide my anger, I'm disappointed, in myself more than anyone.
That I still hoped that he'd stay, ever after everything, "Not entirely, I need it too." He admits, "Of course." I sigh, stupid tears filling my eyes, he reaches out to brush them but I take a step back.
Blinking through the tears, "I'll be back." He promises, voice stern, "You're a liar." I insist, knowing what's already coming, "I'm no—" he starts but I cut him off when my voice rises.
"What was the point of all of this? Coming back, fake dating me, chasing after me at every opportunity, shoving yourself in my life, doing the smallest things to make me happy, I saw through your attempts, I just chose to ignore them, even though I failed at that, what's the point exactly if you're gonna leave again?" I let out, my voice breaking.
Breathing harshly as I try to calm my heartbeats, his eyes dim, and his expression twists with pain, "I'm not leaving you." He insists, shaking his head, "But I understand, my actions will speak louder, isn't that what you say?" He offers, smiling weakly.
I stay silent, not willing to consider if maybe his words are true, he takes a step toward me, and then does something that makes me want to cry harder as his lips make contact with my temple.
He then rests his forehead agains mine, his hot breath on my neck, i breathe in his familiar comforting scent, scared that I won't have him again but at the same time preparing myself for the inevitable consequences.
With Rowan, I'm not sure of anything.
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