Chapter 142

Upon entering the hotel room, Richie didn’t bother switching on any lights, choosing to pick his way through the darkness to the bedroom.  Closing the door behind him, he immediately stripped down to his boxer briefs and crawled into bed.  He groaned as the cool sheets settled over his exhausted body.  With any luck he would be asleep by the time Allegra got here. 

The anger had left him drained and the booze he’d drunk burned in his gut.  He was ready to go to sleep and erase this entire evening. 

If only that were possible. 

Things had gone too far for him quietly wish away his behavior tonight.  He’d heard himself and the awful things he was saying, yet couldn’t make them stop, continuing to mask his confusion and hurt with anger.

Bringing his forearm to rest across his eyes, he silently cursed Jon for telling him that shit so close to show time.  He hadn’t had the chance to get past his gut reaction of betrayal before being thrust head first into work-mode.  If there had been time to sit and think a little before hitting the stage, he may have been able to rationalize everything without acting like a total prick.

His quiet snort pierced the silence of the room.  So much for that.

Now he had to figure out how to deal with the mess he’d made and still keep his ego intact – and his relationship.  The truth was, even if he still was on the fence about marriage, he couldn’t walk away.  Quite simply, he couldn’t stand the thought of Allegra belonging to anyone but him.  She’d been his– or maybe he had been hers – ever since the night she asked him to hold her in Hawaii.  That’s why Angel’s hands all over her had jacked up his righteous indignation like a shot of pure testosterone. 

He flipped over onto his side, the sheets falling to his waist as he wondered what the chance of her letting him off easy –

The door flung wide open, and his pupils constricted at the light that came flooding in courtesy of the loud ‘click’ of the overhead switch. 

“I know you don’t think you’re going to sleep without some type of explanation.” 

There was a sudden chill as he levered up in the bed, squinting.  Icicles dripped from her words, and he would swear the temperature in the room dropped by a good five degrees.  Fortunately her belligerence rekindled the fire under him, so he wasn’t cold for long.

Easy had just flown out the window.

“Goddammit, are you trying to blind me?” 

His hand came up to block the glaring light, and she took the opportunity to stalk to the foot of the bed.  Looking down her nose at him, with arms crossed she appeared to deliberate for a moment before shrugging carelessly. “If that makes you actually talk to me, sure I’m all for it.”

Great.  She still wanted to push.  He made one last-ditch effort to dodge the bullet. 

“Allegra, I’m tired.  It’s been a long-ass day and I want to go to sleep.”  Maybe sleep would chase away this childish temper he couldn’t seem to escape.

“Sucks to be you then, because I deserve some answers and you’re going to give them to me.”  Curling one leg under her, she plopped down on her side of the bed, an air of expectation surrounding her.  “So give.”

He had no idea where to start.  Criss Angel?  The issue with Nikki and the models?  It all seemed borderline ridiculous with her sitting in bed with him.  But instead of admitting that, he engaged in a stubborn, silent standoff with her.

Much as she had done in the bar, she took the heel of her hand and butted it against his bare shoulder, right about where the sun peeked out of the clouds.

“Stop hitting me!”

“Then talk to me!”

Stalemate again. 

Allegra gave a huge sigh and growl of frustration.  “Fine.  I’ll draw it out of you one freaking piece at a time then.  Is this about Criss?”

Rather than answer the question, he stated the obvious.  “He had his hands all over you.  Is that who you were with at the fashion show too?  I saw you laughing and smiling with somebody the whole time.  Did you have a nice date?”

This time the bump of her hand was harder, but he took the shot stoically, without a word of protest.  What else was going to do?  Cry like a little girl?

“It wasn’t a date and you know it!  I was bored and he was pretty much the only non-working person I knew in that crowd.  He kept me company.”

“You knew plenty of people at the concert.”

“Again, nobody that wasn’t working.  And when you saw him hugging me he was congratulating me on the baby.  Our baby.  That is unless you’ve changed your mind about that too.”

Somehow that little tidbit had gotten shoved into some obscure pothole in his brain while everything else was running rampant.  He hadn’t changed his mind, but he had temporarily forgotten about that complication.  Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t completely sever ties with Allegra.

“And while we’re on the subject, what was that crack about me running your life?  And not concerning myself with your tomorrow?”

Balls to the wall.  Either man-up and defend your actions or admit you’re a pussy that threw out insults instead of discussing your feelings like an adult.

“You promised you were going to stop making decisions about my life without consulting me first.  If you can’t do that, then this relationship doesn’t have a future.”

The combination of acid and alcohol churning wildly together caused his stomach to cramp.  He wasn’t sure how he even got the words out of his mouth.  Hadn’t he just decided that he couldn’t walk away?  Why was pushing her away a better option?

For her part, Allegra lifted her chin, swallowing visibly as she absorbed the blow.  Eyes narrowed, her voice was deceptively quiet when she asked, “Would you mind enlightening me a little further, because I still don’t know what you’re talking about?”

Richie’s heart began to beat a little harder as the first traces of real panic set in.  He’d fucked up.  He didn’t want to do this. 

But he was in too deep to back down now.

“Bullshit,” he sneered with a false bravado.  “You knew exactly what you were doing when you slipped away to commandeer my fashion show and threaten my models.”

There.  That sounded severe enough to warrant his reaction.

Didn’t it?

“Really? That’s what this is all about?”  Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips as she slowly nodded, not meeting his gaze but staring past his shoulder out into the darkened London sky.  Biting her lip, she continued to nod and he could see the wheels spinning in her head.   “So the jealousy act was just that – an act.  It was a smoke screen to hide your idiotic reaction to my stepping in and helping.” 

He had to jump in before she was the one making him look like the bad guy here.  He might be an idiot, but he wasn’t a bad guy.

“It’s not an idiotic reaction.”  Well it hadn’t seemed like it at the time.  Not really.  “It’s my company, Allegra.  I’m the one responsible.  You can’t just sweep in and make whatever threats and promises you want and skate back out without a backward glance.  You don’t know anything about the fashion industry, yet not only did you march in there and ‘fix’ things, you didn’t see fit to even fuckin’ tell me about it.  It’s my job to fix things, not yours.”

He was talking in circles and he knew it.  Why couldn’t he stop?  Why couldn’t he just hand her his balls and apologize?   Richie held his breath waiting for her reaction.

“Actually it was Nikki’s job.  She was having trouble with it, so I helped her.”  Her voice had never been so cold and flat toward him.  She flipped loose ebony waves over her shoulders, oozing Jersey attitude.  “And on the off chance that I did it so that you wouldn’t succumb to a nervous breakdown, heart attack or some other stress-related health issue, so what?”

“So what?!”  He threw the covers back and paced to stand in front of the window, arms crossed over his chest.   Logical or not, her flippant attitude bypassed his good sense and he blurted without thinking, “Dammit, you don’t get it!”

His point might be weak and now blown entirely out of proportion, but he did have one to start with. 

“Evidently not, so please feel free to explain.”  Her eyes narrowed when she added sarcastically, “But you might want to use little words since I’m obviously slow on the uptake.”

“Stop being a smartass!  And stop fucking making decisions that affect my life without asking me!”

Her face went eerily calm.  Blue eyes went from blazing to serene as a midday lake.  Facial features that had been creased in anger smoothed.   She was suddenly devoid of all anger – of any emotion at all, really.  He had never seen her that way, and it freaked him out to the point that he wanted to take the words back. 

Damn male pride.  I’m supposed to be the motherfuckin’ sensitive one in this band.  Women love me because I understand them.  Another good theory shot to hell.

When she finally spoke, it was almost as if she were talking to herself, quietly musing, “I guess I did do that, didn’t I?  I made a decision that kept you out of a liquor bottle for – what? – a whole extra ten hours?  Yeah, that was worth this.” 

Rising from the mattress, she stood with her knees against the edge of the bed, mirroring his stance from the opposite side.  “So this is why I’m not supposed to worry about your tomorrow.  You’re breaking up with me.”

No!  This isn’t what he wanted.  It was all playing out in slow motion, like a train wreck that he had no control over.  Everything was spinning out of control.

Except that he’d had control.  That’s why everything was like this.  Because his mind was a muddled mess and he couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut. 

Fuck!

He had to fix it somehow.

“Allegra – “

She held up a hand to silence him, speaking over top of him when he pushed forward and tried to explain anyway.  “No.  I’ve begged you to talk to me all night.  You had your chance.  Now you’re going to listen.”

He had a serious feeling that he wasn’t going to like this – at all.  But what else could he do?  Richie nodded mutely, propping hands on hips as he braced himself for whatever she wanted to dish out. 

She shoved her hands through her hair and sighed.  “There’s no point in denying that I’m naïve when it comes to relationships.  Naïve or not, I believe that when you love someone you take care of them – no matter what.  You’re guilty of reinforcing that belief, by the way.  Remember when I was hurt?  How you wanted to take care of me?  How you did take care of me?  How I let you?  It was a really big deal for me, but I relinquished my sense of independence and entrusted myself to you.” 

One slim hand lifted and she pointed an accusing finger at him.  “And you know what else was a big deal?  That you knew about my mother for days – weeks – and didn’t tell me!  Even so, did I go off on you and accuse you of trying to manipulate my life without my permission?  No.  I appreciated that you were looking out for my well-being and happiness, because in my very simple, unsophisticated mind, that’s part of what love is.”

Her eyes zeroed in on his as she drove her point home like a spike in his chest. 

“Richie, I refuse to apologize for loving you too much.   I’ll never say I’m sorry for taking care of you when you’re too tired, distracted or beaten down to do it yourself.   If that interferes with what your definition of a relationship is – well, then I’m not sure it’s a relationship I want to be a part of.”

She stopped only long enough to pick up her teddy bear nightshirt before preparing to walk out the door and, as far as he knew, out of his life.

“Allegra.  Please don’t go.” 

She paused, her hand and eyes both on the light switch.  “An hour ago you implied that there were no tomorrows for us.  Now I’m wondering if you weren’t right.  Clearly I can’t love you the way you need to be loved.”  Her shoulders squared and she nodded resolutely.  “I’m going to Jon’s suite.  I’ll get the rest of my stuff tomorrow.”

And that was it.  No threats, no tears, no crying – just a matter-of-fact statement before she doused the room in darkness and was gone. 

For the life of him, Richie couldn’t push a word past his vocal cords.  His feet were invisibly nailed to the floor, as heavy as the weight in his heart.  He was helpless to do anything but stare blindly out the window and curse himself. 

What the hell is wrong with me?