I leave her apartment with tears in my eyes. I love Ellie. I want to marry her. But not right now. The world is spinning out of control and I can’t have her in my orbit. I know that I was wrong to blame everything on her. None of this is her fault. Actually, it’s probably all mine. But it just feels like my whole life is imploding and I’m not sure I want her to see the person that I will likely become at the other end.

The challenges we face define us. Isn’t that what they always say? We proceed with our lives thinking that everything is fine and that we’re basically good people, until something happens that really pushes the boundaries of this idea. Are we really as good as we thought we were? Are we as talented? Maybe we are just hacks? Maybe we have just been lying to ourselves this whole time.

I don’t really know what I’m thinking, nothing makes sense anymore. All of my thoughts become like run-on sentences that melt together to form something foreign and strange. I climb into my car and press on the accelerator. Oh, how I wish that instead of being in the middle of Manhattan, I was somewhere out west where I could drive for miles down an empty stretch of highway without seeing another person. Maybe out there I could forget everything that has happened recently and find another way out.

But instead, I pull up to my building and give my car keys to the valet. I ride up the elevator and enter my empty apartment. The modern sleek design with sharp 90 degree edges and stainless steel appliances feels very far from home. This was always the place that gave me peace and comfort, and yet I feel none of that now. Now, it seems like something out of that old movie, Beetlejuice, and I would give anything to be in Ellie’s small cramped room and in her arms again.

I know that I have done this to myself. If it weren’t for me, Ellie and I would still be engaged. But despite the pain that I feel now, it felt like the right decision. Haste, yes. But also, not entirely wrong. Or maybe that’s my mind playing tricks on me again?

After pouring myself a glass of cranberry juice and adding some sparkling water, I take a moment to enjoy the cold bubbly liquid as it runs down the back of my throat. It doesn’t do much to make the feeling of complete loss go away, but it does focus my mind somewhat. Yes, Ellie wasn’t too careful with her new identity as an author and perhaps I should’ve asked her not to write about the auction on the yacht in such precise and honest detail. But the story that appeared in Page Six didn’t come from her. No, it had to come from someone who was there - and someone with an ax to grind.

The most obvious suspect is Blake. Of course. Why not, right? He attacked the love of my life, stole my company, got me fired as CEO and now he’s going to embarrass me and make me look like a pervert in front of all of America. For someone who did the wrong thing, he sure does have an ax to grind. But why does he have all of this hatred toward me? For a long time, I thought that we were friends. I always considered him one of my closest confidantes. I had no idea that he had these deep-seated, dark feelings toward me. Was I just blind to it all? Or did I just ignore something that I should’ve spotted from miles away?

My phone goes off. It’s Leslie Marks my public relations specialist. She’s a woman in her fifties with four little kids. To say that she’s a workaholic would be an understatement. And that’s coming from a workaholic who surrounded himself with workaholics. No, Leslie is a cut above. She’s either a chronic insomniac or she has made a deal with the devil to give her more hours in the day while the rest of us are stuck with only twenty-four. I used to have a whole team of PR people at Owl, but they never focused exclusively on me or performing any type of extensive damage control. Leslie, on the other hand, came recommended directly from my team of attorneys.

“I have a plan going forward,” Leslie says as soon as I answer. She begins all conversations in the middle and I spend half the time playing catch up. I’m not sure if she does this because she’s just a fast talker naturally or to save time.

“We need to go on the offensive. We need to find out who was the source of that article and discredit him.”

Him. She means Blake except that she doesn’t really know it yet. Neither do I, not for sure anyway.

“How do you know it’s a him?” I ask.

“I guess it could be a her. Do you have any possible candidates?”

I do, but I’m not ready to disclose Blake’s name yet. The article mentioned the auction, and Ellie laid out a lot of details about the process in her book. But there was no mention of Blake in either story. Not even a hint. And no matter how much I hate him, I have to tread carefully. There’s Ellie to consider.

“I have a really good private detective. He will get to the bottom of this, one way or the other.”

“And if he is able to find out who the source is,” I say. “What then?”

“Well, once we know for sure, we go after him. Hard. Of course, that most certainly means getting your fiancée, Ellie, involved.”

Shit. I haven’t told her that I broke our engagement yet. I inhale deeply.

“Well, actually, things are sort of complicated with Ellie.”

“What happened? You didn’t break up with her, did you?” Leslie barks. Having been CEO for some time now, I haven’t had the pleasure of anyone being quite so direct with me in a long time. It’s actually somewhat refreshing. Being CEO, you exist in this bubble where everyone kisses your ass. And if you aren’t careful, you might end up believing their lies that you do indeed walk on water. That’s one of the most dangerous things that could happen.

“Aiden?” Leslie asks. “Are you there?”

“Yes.”

“Listen, this is not a good time to have things complicated with Ellie. You need her on your side. She wrote that book. Who the hell knows what else she will do?”

“She won’t do anything bad,” I assure her. But she’s way ahead of me.

“Actually, maybe you breaking up with her is actually a good thing. This way you can deny the whole auction thing all together.”

I shake my head.

“Listen, let’s talk about this later, okay?” I say, yawning.

“Okay, I’ll call you first thing.”

Last time she called me first thing in the morning, it was at five am. I tell her I don’t want to talk her before nine and she begrudgingly agrees to wait until then.

When I hang up the phone, I consider Leslie’s proposition. Perhaps I should tell her and her private investigator about Blake. He is the reason for all this shit. But I can’t hurt him without hurting Ellie. When it first happened, she didn’t go to the police and file a report. And to come out now would make it very easy for all those naysayers to not believe her. Why didn’t she come forward in the first place? the better ones of them will likely say. And the cruel ones? Well, they will probably say that she deserved everything that happened because she let herself be auctioned off in the first place. No, all of those people can just go fuck themselves. I won’t let them question Ellie’s integrity. I won’t let her go through that. Not for me. I love her too much.