Chapter 31

Danielle

I’m hurt by how mad Janus is.

But I’m mad too.

Mad, and hurt that someone I’ve shared so much of myself with thinks so little of me.

For God’s sake.

So, I sometimes use a few people to my advantage.

I know those men are using me too.

They just want to sleep with me once or twice, have me on their arm at a gala, and then drop me the minute a less-challenging woman comes along.

So what that I play their game sometimes?

Janus plays people too.

I’ve seen it.

I’ve seen the way he touches smitten women on the arm or the shoulder, and they just open all the doors and let him into wherever he wants to go.

He’s just as bad as me.

But he’s obviously seen the way I look at him.

Didn’t I give in to his wants this time? Leave those girls in danger? For the sake of his worry? What else do I need to do to prove to him that he matters to me?

He’s standing across the room, his face locked in an expression of stoic anger and mistrust.

I’m trying to get him to sit down, but he won’t.

A storm has begun to rage outside.

I just want him to take me into his arms, leave this dumb fight.

When we’re touching, everything is fine and good and clear.

But that’s clearly not going to happen.

No, it’s all cold stares and accusations.

“Please sit down next to me, Janus,” I plead.

I can see his entire body longing towards me. I can see him pulling himself back. Why is this so hard?

“Answer the question.”

There’s hurt in his voice—longing.

I want to run my fingers through his dark hair and kiss away all this bullshit.

“I got in touch with you because I needed you.”

“You needed my skills.”

“Yes, your skill set is invaluable to someone like me.”

The sky is darkening, and the windows are gently shaking in their frames against the strong gusts.

As the storm grows out there, so too does it in here.

I want him to wrap us in a blanket and just talk through this without all the angst. I want to pluck up the courage to tell him he’s being a total idiot because I’m in love with him.

But that’s not what’s going to happen. And even if he did, I don’t know if I would accept it. We’re both just so worked up.

“You needed my skills and my contacts. That’s all I was to you.”

“Yes. In the beginning, that’s all you were to me. I needed to get this done. I needed the best man for the job. And that’s you.”

“So you saw me as a resource to be milked and tossed away when finished. How noble of you, Dani. Real humanitarian.”

“That’s not fair. You knew what you were getting into in Sudan and you did here too. You can’t put that on me,” I snap back.

“And the sex, then?”

“Okay, so maybe I just slept with you at the beginning because you’re...well…you. But I’ve never used you.”

“Then why did you leave?”

It’s such a simple question, and yet the answer is more complicated than I realized before now.

How do I tell him I left because I was scared? How do I tell him that I fell for him back in South Sudan, but that I refused to sacrifice my story for my feelings?

And how the fuck was I to know how he felt back then?

“You know why I left, Janus. I couldn’t turn my back on those people.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Dani. It’s not the people you care about. It’s the fucking byline.”

“Fuck you Janus. You know that’s not true,” I shout angrily. “And in case you forgot, you weren’t exactly forthcoming yourself then. Or now.”

“How could I when you left me in the dead of night? I can’t say anything to a woman who’s not there when I wake up,” he shouts back with just as much anger.

“What do you want me to say, Janus? I’ve already apologized for leaving you that day.”

There’s so much raw emotion in the air between us that you could cut it with a knife.

I’ve never felt so open, wounded, and angry than I do right now.

And it’s all because of Janus, and us.

I should have kept it business. I shouldn’t have let him kiss me that night after dinner, and I definitely shouldn’t have slept with him.

But how do you turn down the man you love?

And I know he feels for me—otherwise we wouldn’t be having this fucking argument.

I get he’s hurt after reading that e-mail. I get that I should’ve been honest with him from the start about my reaching out to Dave.

But he has secrets and contacts that I have no clue about. For him to judge me for keeping my own close to the chest hurts.

Why can’t he just have some faith?

Or did I really hurt him that much in South Sudan that his feelings have blinded him so greatly?

“Look, I’m going to throw my cards out on the table because one of us has to. I originally did what I did to lure you out to me. I knew that you had the skills and resources I needed to see this story through. That’s all you were. A hot commodity.”

His hands ball up into fists so tight that his knuckles turn white.

“And that’s how it was. At first. But—”

“But what? I was also decent stress relief too? A side piece to enjoy as another perk of the job?”

“No, you weren’t just some side piece. You’ve become—”

“Become what? A liability? Well allow me to relieve you of that burden right here and now.”

Janus marches across the room to the bedroom, and grabs his go bag.

Before I even have the chance to stop him, he’s at the door.

“Look out for yourself, Dani. Can’t write a story when you’re dead.”

I want to grab him and tell him that I love him. I want to tell him that everything between us changed and I can’t imagine not having him in my life.

But before I can even open my mouth to utter a word, he’s gone with the slam of the door.

I’m left standing in the middle of the room.

The cool wind on my back from the brewing storm, left with this lingering image of the hurt and anger in his eyes.

I’m heartbroken, angry, and worried.

I know he can look after himself out there, but for once, I was hoping he wouldn't have to.

I was hoping that neither of us would have to.