Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(80)

The three of us sat around the dinner table and chatted while being catered to by the cook and housekeepers, and I felt myself relax. Of course, that was until I saw the pictures of Victor leaving a nightclub with another woman. Then, I was raging and actually glad I’d agreed to go to the premiere with Gabe and wasn’t back home in LA where these pictures would’ve been pushed down my throat. I needed to stop looking for things I had no interest in seeing. All I was doing was forcing the knife deeper into my heart, and I couldn’t bear it anymore. I hid my pain behind a bright smile. It was the only way I knew how to cope. I hid. I hid my pain behind a bright smile. But inside, I also cried. Inside, my heart broke a little more, as if I hadn’t experienced enough pain over the last two years. He was moving on. Despite that kiss in his office—our last kiss—he was really moving on.

At least I knew I was going to spend the week with my mom and not in public with Gabe. I was finally done with that life. Still, it didn’t mean when Victor actually did text message me that it didn’t bother me. I knew the game. I knew he was trying to make it seem like he was never with me, but those pictures, seeing them, seeing his smile, seeing him shielding the blonde with his arm so the camera’s flash wouldn’t get her . . . it hurt. It hurt, and I knew I couldn’t talk to him. I wouldn’t talk to him. Not unless he was ready to actually be with me. Not until after all of this was over. Not unless he was ready to actually be with me. I deserved better than to be somebody’s dirty little secret. I deserved to be number one in somebody’s life.





“LOOK AT THIS one,” Estelle said.

While we’d been watching the Golden State game, she’d been scrolling through her phone, showing Mia the latest on TMZ’s update about Gabriel and Nicole. Did she not realize how sick to my stomach I was over it? Did she not comprehend to what extent the whole thing angered me? Thankfully, I was holding Greyson in my arms and it was hard to rage while you were holding such an innocent little thing. I smiled, looking down at him.

“Women suck, Grey. When you grow up all you’ll hear about is how much men suck and how terrible we are, but remember, they make us this way. They drive us crazy and make us want them and then they go f*ck everything up,” I said in a coo while I kissed the top of his head. He smelled so f*cking good.

“What are you saying to my kid?” Mia asked. I lifted my head up to look at her.

“Nothing. Guy talk.”

She shot me a dissatisfied look. “I’m not sure I want you having guy talk.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a bad influence.”

“What?” I paused, frowning as I adjusted Grey in my arms. “I’m not a bad influence.”

“Every time I look at this,” she said, waving her phone around, “you’re with a different girl. Weren’t you supposed to be with Nicole?”

I groaned. “I’m not with any of those women.”

“Yeah, good luck convincing Nicole of that,” Estelle said.

“She doesn’t care. Aren’t you looking at pictures of her and Gabriel, looking like they’re back on and about to go to the courthouse and get remarried and shit?” I asked, not caring how pissed off I sounded. Greyson cooed in my arms, and I stuck the pacifier back in his mouth with my finger.

“Can they do that?” Mia asked, gasping. “That would really suck.”

“It would really f*cking suck,” I said. The thought alone made me feel defeated.

“Is she wearing . . . an engagement ring?” Estelle asked slowly, quietly, almost in a whisper.

I walked toward her and handed Grey over to Mia, and as I did, I caught a glimpse of the picture they were looking at. She picked him up and I took the phone from her hand. It was a video of Nicole and Gabriel. I clicked on it and brought the phone closer to my face. They were walking through a street market, and she was smiling up at him. His arm was casually draped over her shoulder. At the end of the video, the camera zoomed in on her hand and the voice-over made mention of the ring she wore. Nicole wore a lot of rings, though. She wore bracelets, and rings, and necklaces of all lengths.

“She wears a lot of rings,” I said. I knew it wasn’t her engagement ring because it looked much smaller. Seeing it on that finger didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Let me see,” Jensen said, reaching for the phone. “On that finger, though?”

I tried to shrug nonchalantly, but the lump forming in my throat spoke volumes. I looked at the television, so I wouldn’t have to witness the compassionate looks they were surely giving me. I might actually break down right there in her living room. The truth was that when I told Nicole that she was mine, I’d meant it. I couldn’t bear the thought of Nicole with anybody else in any capacity, much less in such a serious one. It physically pained me when I thought about it.

“When are you going to admit to yourself that you’re in love with her?” Estelle asked suddenly.

Her words came at me hard, pushing a boulder of pressure against my chest. Love. I’d told her I thought I was falling in love with her when she’d been lying in my arms. All this time apart did nothing to diminish my feelings for her. Nothing. If anything, it made me realize how much I was missing. No late-night talks about our days. No humorous discussions. No kissing. No f*cking. No . . . light. No Nicole. Fuck. And I realized Estelle was f*cking right. How did that happen? There was no way around it. No point in denying it. I was in love with her and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I’d known it in that hotel room. I may have known it before then. Who knew? Love was a strange thing. But the more time that passed without seeing each other, and the longer she was in Argentina, the clearer it became that I’d lost her. Probably for good. Maybe I’d have to come to terms with the fact that I let go of the one woman who made me want to settle down once and for all.