Chapter 63

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I was going to wait till tomorrow. So y'all can thank anjalikavya for the early update. Enjoy! I'm currently working on Dimitri's POV so it might be a day or two before I continue this part of the story. I got a lot of writing done being stuck in the house from the snow. My only had to do yesterday was laundry and cleaning horse stalls. Happy reading!


"Dimitri," I sigh happily and wiggle myself out of Tray's hold. I launch myself at Dimitri and wrap my arms around him, but his arms remain limp at his side. His eyes on Tray. I back away from him and more tears fall.

"Skylar was the family emergency," he demands from Tray with clench fists.

Tray throws his arms up in the air, "don't start this shit with me." He points to me and lectures Dimitri . "And you need to get your head out of your ass right now and put all your pissed off feelings to the side. You can be pissed all you want later, but right now she needs you. And you will talk to her."

I return to the couch and warp the blanket around me like armor. This was not going to go well, but what did I expect. I did this to myself by not telling him.

Tray stands and dusts himself off, "I'm going to head home. It has been a long day." He shifts sad eyes to me, "are you okay with me telling Aubree what's going on?"

"Yes please," I say keeping my eyes on Dimitri's blank expression. 

Tray pauses by Dimitri and they exchange a few words and I watch some of the tension melt from Dimitri's body. He nods his head and embraces Tray in a hug. They separate and Tray places and hand on Dimitri's shoulder. They exchange a few more hushed words I can hear. The Tray leaves the room and Dimitri stare at each other without saying a word.

Dimitri rubs his hand over his face and then takes a seat on the other side of the couch. I throw a small victory internally at least he didn't sit on the other side of the room. I fight the urge to move closer to him, but figure he needs some space.

"Skylar I need you to start from the beginning and tell me what the fuck is going on." He turns in his seat to face me. 

I launch into my story. Starting with when I had started to get sick while we were on tour. His eyes light up as though he was putting together a puzzle and the pieces were clicking into place.

"Your odd behavior makes sense now," he mutters more to himself than me. So he did notice that something was off. Guess I'm not as good at hiding things than I thought I was. 

I nod my head and continue telling him about the past week or so. I begin telling him about today and when I get to the part about calling Tray this morning he stands from the couch and paces the room.

"What didn't you call me," he says full of heartache. Other than the one comment he had been quietly listening till now.

The reason why I had called Tray this morning made so much sense in my head, but now it doesn't. I thought for sure I was doing the right thing, but now I'm afraid to tell him the reason and make him even more angrier than he already is. But the secrets and lies need to stop.

"I didn't want to drag you away from the interview and," but he cuts me off before I can finish my thought.

He turns to me with eyes aflame and nostrils flaring, "are you fucking kidding me? This is unbelievable." He runs his hands through his hair. "Nothing is more important than you. Nothing." Tears fall from his eyes. "If you think so lowly of me maybe we shouldn't be together."

"Dimitri no," I sob trying to quickly string sentences together to save our relationship. "You were already so stressed out I didn't want to add to it. I promise you I was going to tell you once I got more answers. But now I'm left with more questions that answers."

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