Stained Glass Shards

29.

GRIFFIN

Why won't she talk to me?

I tossed the phone on my hotel bed. Being alone in a different city was getting old.

I'm getting old.

It was time to make plans for my future. I thought I was making plans to get Ely back, expecting her to be so pissed that she would call me. I needed to hear her voice, even if it was in anger and disgust for my ruining her life. But she didn't call. There were no texts, no ranting about how I'd ruined her life. Nor was there an email saying how much she wished she had never met me.

I need something.

The surveillance team told me Ritter had visited her the night before, staying until early morning, when he left for New York. He had stayed away from her for a few days. But he wormed his way back into her home. Her bed. Inside her sweet . . .

Fuck!

A flight check revealed he'd returned to New York City by nine a.m. I punched my chest to contain the rising anger. I couldn't stop him from seeking her out. There was no way I could prevent her from seeing him.

Could I?

Did he love her? He must. By traveling to see her, despite the hellacious things I'd done to him, meant he felt something deeper for her. If it were about money, he wouldn't have wasted his time. He would have cut his losses. Cut her off completely.

He'd flown to her—literally abandoned his work to travel over three hundred miles to be with his lover. And she had opened her door, letting him in. Letting him stay, to do unspeakable things to her.

How does he do it to her?

Is he commanding like I was? Gentle, as I could be? Was he anything like me? That could explain why she liked him so.

Loves him.

She loves him.

I had to come to grips.

I can't handle that. I had one last chance. This lawsuit would be a way to show her I was ready to be with her. I'd sacrificed my entire career to be with her.

Can't she see that?

I was doing it for us. Our future depended on getting rid of Ritter and extricating myself from Hollywood.

My phone rang. I scrambled to grab it, hoping it was her. I had saved a tabloid picture of Elyce on my phone. When I didn't see her picture pop up, I knew it wasn't her.

It was my mother.

"Mother?"

"Son. How are you? How's your arm?"

"If that's your way of determining if I'm back to work, then I am. I'm in Vancouver."

"Honey, I have the trades to tell me when you're back to work. I want you to tell me how you're doing."

"Is this about my lawsuit?"

"Did you discuss it with someone before you went and did all that?"

"I'm a big boy now. I've been making big-boy decisions for a really long time now."

"You don't have to take that tone with me. I'm trying to support you here."

"Did you ask me how I feel about my love life being written in a book, considering you took it upon yourself to confirm with the rags that I had a relationship with her?"

"Love life? So it was love?" she asked, ignoring my accusations.

"Is love!"

"What makes you think you're in love?"