The Muse's Undoing

I’m fine.

Matthew, I need to see you. I can’t do this anymore.

Matthew

Enough said. No reason to see each other then.

Something snaps inside me at that.

Don’t fucking misunderstand me. I’m not okay. Neither are you. We need to see each other.

Matthew

Who says I’m not okay?

Maybe it’s just me then.

Matthew

You can’t come over here. It’s a mess.

I don’t care.

Okay, maybe I don’t want to schedule something. Maybe this is urgent, and these crumbs he’s throwing at me are making me crave the whole cake.

Matthew

Fine. Do you.

I order a car before I’m even off the couch. I showered a few hours before I started hitting the bottle, so all I need is clean clothes. I fall on my ass as I’m getting dressed, losing my balance as I try to lace my shoes, but I grab some water on my way out the door and chug it in the elevator, hoping it helps dilute my blood alcohol level.

A doorman I vaguely recognize takes stock of me as I limp without my cane through the lobby, using the wall and his desk to balance my steps. He’s gorgeous. Blond. Blue, soulful eyes. He looks exhausted, like night shifts aren’t his usual. I feel bad for him, like his being here is my fault, too.

“Is someone picking you up, Mr. Elliot?” he asks, properly assessing the state I’m in.

How does he know my name? Before I ask, I stop myself. On second thought, I don’t want to know. “I have a car coming.”

“I’ll walk you out. I could use the fresh air.”

“Thanks.” He looks strong. He could probably pick me up if I fall again. “What’s your name?”

“Christian. Chris. I’m filling in for a few nights.”

“It’s nice to meet you. You work at one of Gibson’s other properties?” Jesus, I’m chatty tonight.

“Yeah. Gramercy.”

Ah. That’s where I must have seen him.

“You know Mr. Hayes?” he asks.

“We went to college together.” I check my phone. My ride is close. When I look back up, Christian is studying me like he has questions. I nod to let him know he can ask whatever he wants.

“Do you know his wife?” is his unexpected question.

“They met our freshman year. Why?”

“Just he seems…devoted.”