I wonder if a day could go by that I don’t shove my foot right into my howling screamer, I wondered as I sat in a corner booth in the hotel restaurant, shades on and a tumbler of Jack in my hand. This was the first drink I’d touched since my dinner with Liz…

After she kicked me out of the bedroom, I threw on my clothes and headed downstairs for a bit of fresh air. Or at least, that was what I’d fooled myself into believing. The reality was I’d headed straight for the bar. It really didn’t take much for me to give up, did it? I’d proved that time and time again. All I would ever be was a grade-A fuck up. What was the use in fighting it?

“Thought I might find you here. You look like you’ve been better,” Tessa said as she sat down across from me. I immediately took a drink. To deal with her, I was going to need something to take the edge off. “What happened?”

I snorted. “Unless you can spin it into yet another money-grubbing scheme, why the hell would you care?”

This succubus actually had the gall to look wounded. “How can you ask me something like that?” she asked. “After everything we’ve been through, after all I’ve done, how could you think that I don’t care about you?”

She moved to place her hand upon mine across the table. I pulled away and sat back, shaking my head.

“She’s pissed, Tessa,” I said, turning my gaze elsewhere. I didn’t want to entertain any crocodile tears. “Haven’t even been married for more than a month, and my wife already hates me. Is there an award for ‘worst husband of the year’? Because I’m fairly sure I’ve earned it.”

Out of my periphery, I saw Tessa roll her eyes. Typical—she wanted to know every last detail of my life, pulled the “but I care” card, and then ended up ridiculing me all the same. It was never any different with her. It was never any different with anyone.

“Oh, relax,” she said, her tone scathing. “It’s not like she’s really your wife. Your marriage is bullshit, just like the Elvis impersonator who married you.”

Maybe, technically speaking, Tessa was right. Maybe Liz wasn’t really my wife—at least, not in any way that involved actually being in love. But the more time I spent with her, the more I felt like maybe we could have something real. Of course, I’d just cocked that all up, hadn’t I, going on about our ruse right after we’d shared something so intimate with one another.

That’s not how you ask a girl to move in with you, you twat, I told myself as the whiskey warmed my guts. You don’t make her feel like she’s just another set piece in your oh-so-glamorous life. And you certainly don’t dress it up as a charade that will come crashing down as you’ve got your money’s worth!

“You just need to keep Little Miss Vegas in line long enough for this plan of ours to pay off,” Tessa continued, though I was hardly paying her much mind. I had so much more to think about than some stupid scheme to get me on the cover of the New York Times or the National Enquirer. Liz, and how badly I’d screwed up with her, was the only thing I currently found worth thinking about.

I thought about the way Elizabeth’s eyes had refused to even meet mine as I’d left the room, how she’d covered her face with her hands just so she wouldn’t have to look at me. I thought of how violently she’d torn herself from me, like she couldn’t even stand for me to touch her. Was this shame tightening my throat, making me grind my teeth this way? It had been so damned long since I’d been truly ashamed of anything that the sensation was utterly alien to me. I’d spent so long floating in and out of sobriety that even the word had all but left my vocabulary.

It felt like the memory of how I’d ruined a perfect moment was choking me. For so long, I had believed that true intimacy was for other people. I had coveted it, certainly, but I’d never actually thought it would fall into my lap the way it had with Liz up there. And then I’d sullied it, just the way I sullied everything else. How stupid I’d been, to think I could be the person Liz needed me to be—the person that my kid was going to need me to be. When it came down to it, I was a selfish, spoiled brat, and for that I had no one to blame for myself.

I swallowed hard past the lump in my throat, still feeling the burn of the last drink of my whiskey I’d taken. I was going to be a father, and all I knew was that I was woefully unprepared to meet that challenge. Tessa blathered on about some meeting she was having with another news network, and I was wondering whether I really wanted to let this whole thing go once the publicity stunt was over.

At this point… did it matter?

The whiskey in my hand felt so heavy, like a burden I was just itching to cast aside, and yet part of me wanted to keep holding onto it, to feel it scorch my throat again as it carried me into the sweet oblivion of intoxication—a land where my actions were barely my own and I couldn’t be blamed for being a complete and utter fool. But the longer I thought of Liz, the more the aftertaste of that whiskey turned sour on my tongue.

Maybe there’s a chance that I could be better, if I actually tried for once, I thought, setting the tumbler of Jack down on the table. Tessa was still prattling on, despite my rather obvious inattention. If I didn’t pull back at the last minute, maybe I could actually be worthy of something. Something good.

But was there even any truth to that? After the way that I’d behaved all these years, was there any turning back now? Or was this my one and only chance to become something more than just a drunken sex hound that only ever felt a connection when he got some barely legal groupie into his bed? The question tore at my insides, at the very fiber of my being, as I contemplated the crossroads I sat at.

“Earth to Julian,” Tessa called, eyebrows raised as she snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

“Sorry,” I muttered, frowning as I pushed her hand away. “I guess I’m a little distracted, is all.”

“Well, you’d better focus,” she said, shaking her head as she started digging through her purse. “If this plan our ours doesn’t go the way we want it to, then your career is over—and this time, I won’t be able to do you any favors. We’ll be done, and I’ll be looking for a client that has some actual promise.”

“We have a contract,” I reminded her. The way she tutted me right after made me want to flip the table over.

“One that I have the power to break, should you insist on reneging on your duties. Really, Jules, you should know this. Or didn’t you read the terms all the way through—”

“Can you spend a second of your life not being a bitch?” I snapped, my voice a hissing whisper so as not to draw the attention of the other patrons. “For Christ’s sake, Tess, I am so tired of hearing about how my career is in constant peril! Can’t I just sit alone for once and make a decision about my life that doesn’t involve money—or you being a right cunt?”

“I beg your pardon?” she said, blinking as she tried to process my words. “You need to remember who the hell you’re talking to, Bastille—I discovered you!”

Her voice was rising to levels I wasn’t comfortable with, drawing stares from the men and women enjoying their dinner at other tables. She was going to cause a scene, if I let her—make sure someone recognized who I was and get a video on their phone.

No. That wasn’t going to happen. For once, Tessa was not going to get her away. Even if it meant conceding this battle in order to win the war.

“Forget it,” I said, shaking my head as I stood up from the table. I threw down enough cash for my bill plus a tip before I turned away from her and started heading for the elevators. “I’ve had a shit night. I’m going to bed.”

I could feel Tessa’s gaze practically burning holes into the back of my jacket as I left her there, seething, and without any outlet for it. Good, I thought. Let her feel what it’s like to be trapped in a situation where someone else has all the control.

I smashed my thumb into the call button for the elevator, wondering through a whiskey buzz about how I was going to convince Liz to even let me into the suite. There was only one real answer—and it was exactly what she deserved.

You have some apologizing to do, I thought as the elevator doors opened in front of me. I took a deep breath before boarding, feeling a lot like I was descending into hell, and this was my personal hand basket. A hell of a lot.