And the confirmation she gives me that she’s been reading the hateful comments as well is when she tries to wipe a tear without being noticed.
“Vee, please don’t look at that,” I plead as I take a seat next to her on the bed. Placing her coffee on the nightstand, I gently take her phone from her hands. “You don’t need to read that stuff.”
“Why are people so mean?” Her voice is weak, almost inaudible.
“I don’t know, baby, but I don’t want you reading that.”
“Has your agent called?” Hope. So much hope shines in her red-rimmed eyes.
“No, not yet.” Exhaling a long deep breath, frustration flows through me. Rich is on my ass all the time, and now he decides to stay silent? When I need his fucking help? “Anything from your coworkers?” I run a soothing hand over her leg.
“Indy texted me to check in, but nothing from Tara.” She nods her head, reminding herself that’s a good thing. “Yet.”
Studying her, I can’t seem to find the fire my girl typically emanates. “Vee, are you okay?”
Her shoulders lift, a sad half-smile pulling at her lips.
Silence lingers between us, neither of us quite sure what to say.
“Can I even leave the building?” she finally asks.
“Yeah. Security cleared the area, but I’m going to have someone walk you out when you decide to go.”
“I think I’m ready to go.”
My heart drops. “You want to leave?”
She nods, pulling her gaze away from mine, but I can still see the sadness swimming in those blue-greens. “I want to go talk to my brother.”
Of course, she does, but I wish she wouldn’t. I wish she’d stay here and talk to me. Tell me how she’s feeling. Tell me if she’s ready to be out in the open, but she doesn’t need to tell me because it’s evident on her face.
She’s not ready for this. She can’t handle the negative attention that comes with being associated with me, and I don’t blame her.
“Okay,” I resign. “I’ll let you get ready then.”
Stevie meets me by the front door after she’s showered and dressed. It’s not lost on me that her signature curls are slicked back into a bun, and her sweatshirt has a hood so she can hide on the walk to her apartment.
Exhaustion covers her pretty features thanks to the cruel words beating down on her, and I couldn’t feel more at fault than I do right now.
She shouldn’t be hurting this way. Her deepest insecurities wouldn’t be reinforced if it weren’t for me.
She’s hiding because of me.
“It’ll be okay.” I wrap her up in a heavy hug, holding on a little longer than usual. Because the truth is, it is going to be okay. One way or another, I’m going to make it better for her.
Her hand snakes around to the back of my neck, pulling me down to meet her. Her lips are soft, but there’s an edge of desperation in her kiss, and I’m not sure why. I’m not sure why this one feels different.
“I’ll call you later.” I search her face as the words leave my mouth, looking for some kind of reprieve from the knot in my stomach, but it doesn’t work. She seems like she’s on the edge of a breakdown.
I keep my eyes on my girl as Stevie walks down the hall to the elevator. Her head hangs low as she pushes the button, but it isn’t until I see her back begin to vibrate that I take a few quick strides and pull her into my chest.
“Vee, come here.”
Her desperate cry is the most painful thing I’ve ever heard, knowing I’m the one who caused this. She’s hurting because she’s with me. People think they have the right to say hateful things about her because she’s with me.
Pulling her face from my chest, I cup her cheeks, thumbs wiping the fresh tears from under her swollen eyes. Her brows pinch together as she swallows hard, and the utter defeat that covers her face fills my chest with guilt.
How do I beg her not to listen to them? How do I remind her that the only person’s opinion that should matter is her own?
The elevator stops on my floor as the words stay stuck in my throat.
I’m sorry.
Please don’t listen to them.
Who cares what others have to say about you?
But the words don’t feel right. They feel hypocritical because I should be reminding myself of the same thing. The nasty comments online aren’t just about Stevie. They’re about me too. And I’m having an equally hard time reminding myself that the only opinion of me that matters is from the people closest in my life.