Chapter 10

It was with a headache and a slightly nervous feeling that I walked downstairs the next morning, after a long shower and an even longer sleep. I wasn't really feeling rested yet, but I knew the exhaustion was mental and not physical.

The thing was, I was used to it.

I knew my body and myself well enough to know how I felt the day after an emotional breakdown, and I also knew not to let it get me down again.

Otherwise it would turn into a vicious cycle, and I'd never get anything done. That's why I left my breakdowns to around once a month, or whenever my mom called to remind me of all the things I didn't like to be reminded of. It was all routine, as bitter as it sounded.

What wasn't routine however, and never would be, was having an audience. Specifically the male-kind, and even more specifically, the ones I slept with.

Usually when I had my breakdowns, I liked to isolate myself with a bottle and cry it out until I was done. I didn't need anyone coming with remarks or smart suggestions, because I handled my problems myself, and if I wanted help, I would asked for it. I didn't like a shoulder to cry on, though, because growing up I

never had one.

Ergo, I had gotten used to handling things on my own, which was why yesterday was such a big surprise. Mustering up the courage, I paced in front of Harry's study for two whole minutes before I finally found the tits to knock. I knocked thrice and instantly heard his voice call out to enter. Opening the door, the nervousness spiked in my stomach.

Why was I nervous?

I had no clue what I was walking in to, but hopefully we could forget about it and work past it. If he was suddenly going to start treating me differently because he found out I could cry, I was going to need a full refund on this newfound fuck-buddy-whatever we had going on.

The minute I stepped in, Harry glanced up shortly and looked at me. He was sitting behind his desk in a green blazer paired with a black tie beneath and his usual glasses sitting sloped on his nose. His hair was combed neatly and showed no signs of anyone who had lost sleep thinking about why his houseguest had been pounding the heavy juices last night.

"So..." I started, clearing my throat after he averted his gaze and kept on reading whatever he was reading on his desk.

"About last night.."

"Next time you plan on drinking your emotions out, I suggest you go do it at a bar and not in my house."

I stopped up completely. I think my jaw even dropped ever so slightly, but I couldn't be sure. I was too busy focusing on the words he had just spoken, with about as much affection as if he had been speaking to his wall.

"Excuse me?" I said, a little guarded.

There was a crispness to his voice I didn't like, and it was making me feel... offended?

Harry merely turned a page in his book and didn't lift his eyes to meet mine.

"If you're going to drown your sorrows in alcohol, please refrain from doing it within these walls. As a matter of fact, refrain from it entirely."

This time, my jaw definitely dropped.

Was he actually scolding me for what I did last night?

"Listen, I'm sorry that I drank your booze. I'll go out and replace it if it means that much to you, but you don't really get to decide what I do and what I don't do," I said, defensively placing my hands on my hips.

"I know this house is old, but it's not the 1850's. I'll do as I please."

I turned on my foot to leave when I felt like this wasn't going to be a conversation worth having, when I heard Harry shut his book. The only reason I halted up was because I could feel his glare suddenly sting on my back.

"I could care less about the alcohol," He then voiced.

"What concerns me is the way you showed how you handled problems yesterday. I've been treating you like an adult, but last night I saw nothing more than a teenager taking her problems out on the closest adjacent solution. I expected more of you, and I'm disappointed to see that you couldn't aim higher than that."

I damn well spun around.

He did not actually just try and lecture me on proper behavior, did he? Where did he find the nerve? The fucking permission to think that was his place to say?

Oh, hell no.

"Disappointed in me?" I repeated, almost in a mockery voice.

I let out a humorless, furious laugh.

"Well, shit. What a news bomb. Sorry I didn't live up to your expectations. You might be arrogant enough to handle your problems in million dollar scams you play with your brother, but I'm only human," I sneered.

"You see, I actually deal with them instead of playing games, and that might not be good enough for you, but at least I deal with them. Do I do it in a way a therapist would've liked me to handle it? Perhaps not, but I don't have the privilege to hide within my fucking mansion and bury myself in math and equations to make up for the fact that my own family is fucked up. So yeah," I said, gritting my teeth and walking closer to his desk.

"Sorry I'm such a disappointment."

He had watched me all throughout my whole speech with calm, folded hands. It pissed me off even more, because nobody should be that fucking emotionless while being yelled at. Either he really was emotionally stunted or he had the most perfect poker face I had seen. I couldn't tell which one was sadder.

After a short moment, Harry then slowly took off his glasses and stood up. Walking around his desk, he took a seat on the front of it and crossed his arms with a pensive look. He didn't take his eyes off of me, and I didn't take mine off of him.

If this was a standoff, I wasn't losing.

After another moment, he finally spoke. "You think I hide behind my work to suppress feelings that I don't want to deal with?"

"Aren't you?" I provoked.

Even someone as emotionally unstable as me could tell there was more going on than what met the eye. He and his brother hardly spoke, and I hadn't heard him mention his parents even once.

Narrowing his eyes a little, he shifted his weight onto his feet and uncrossed his arms. Then, standing up, he walked right up to me until we were inches apart.

"I don't suppress feelings," He then spoke.

"Nor do l ignore them. Contrary to your belief, I do acknowledge them. I just don't give them the time of my day."

"Is that so?" I scoffed.

He was so full of it. It all sounded like a whole lot of suppression to me.

"My work takes a lot of focus to do," He started anew, looking around the room to admire all of it.

"Emotions clouds the mind. I've told you time and time again that focus is vital to succeeding and that letting go of all else that's holding you down is key to moving forward, and that is exactly what I do."

"You say that like it's easy," I snapped, watching him turn and walk back to his desk to take another seat. He wasn't even break a fucking frown line having this conversation.

"It is," He simply replied and looked at me again, after sitting down on his desk once more.

"Once you start prioritizing what's important to you, you begin to put all other things to rest that aren't. I don't let emotions rule my mind, otherwise I lose my

focus. If I were you, I would start doing the same and focus more on your studies, and less on what else is keeping your mind occupied."

"You mean like sex?" I laughed, shortly, still unamused.

"You didn't seem to have any complaints yesterday."

"Sex is a stimulant. It doesn't take over your mind the way feelings do," He stated.

I scoffed. What a load of bull crap.

"You can explain it however you want, but it still doesn't deny the fact that you have problems that you choose not to deal with. You make it sound smart by saying it helps you do what you do, but deep down, you still have feelings. Everybody does," I stated and walked closer. I stared down at him and watched him look back up at me.

"So say what you will, but you're handling your problems as well as I am."

I had every intention of staring him out and then storming out after that statement, but as luck would have it, there suddenly came a ringing from my pants pocket.

Tearing my eyes away from Harry's that remained on me, I slipped my phone out and then couldn't help but laugh.

"Speaking of which," I held up the phone to and watched as his eyes moved to the display.

"Excuse me while I help your problems stay problems."

Clicking the answer button, I glared Harry dead in the eye as I took the call and spoke into the phone.

"Hey, Richard. Yup, I'm good. Ready for another report?"

Harry pursed his lips while I spoke, and it almost fucking pleased me. That right there, small as it was, was exactly how he felt about all of this. About his brother calling to confirm I was still trying to get him to knock me up, all for the sake of some stupid ass business empire.

"Well, actually-"

Before I could move, Harry snatched the phone away from my ear and pulled it free from my hand. My mouth opened, but I then watched in shock as he slowly lifted the phone up to his own ear, keeping his eyes locked on me.

"Hello, Richard." He calmly spoke.

I heard a brief silence on the other end, a silence that seemed so quiet as it stretched into Harry's study. I was breathless as I watched him hold the phone, eyes pinned on me.

Finally, I heard a voice speak in the other end. I couldn't make out the words, but I could sense from the stop and go noise that the sentences were incomplete and clearly being stuttered out in shock.

"I assume you're calling to confirm she's still keeping up her end of the bargain?" Harry broke in and raised a brow as my jaw dropped.

"She is. And quite vigorously so. Anything else?"

I heard more noise coming from the other end, and this time it sounded like an endless stream of talking and explaining.

"Stop insulting my intelligence and quit the excuses," Harry cut through once again, his jaw firming as he sat up.

"Never call this number again unless you want to have this conversation again in court. Are we clear?"

He looked me dead in the eyes as he spoke. I was pretty sure I wasn't breathing, but I wasn't really concerned about that right now.

"Good. Always a pleasure catching up with you, big brother."

He hung up the phone right there without another word, without giving his brother another chance to explain himself. He then stood up and handed the phone back to me, which I took with a slightly wooden movement.

"I believe this belongs to you."

When he walked around his desk and took a permanent seat in chair, I finally unfroze from my position and managed to process what had just happened. Packing my phone away in my pocket, I then came to life with a small purse of my lips.

"I still don't think that counts as dealing with your problems."

His lips only twitched to that.

Picking up his glasses, he slid them on and turned his everlasting fleeting attention back towards his work. I guess that was my cue to leave. Turning to head for the door, I halted once again when I heard his voice surprisingly speak up.

"Now that you're off the hook with dealing with my problems, you should have much more time to study, I presume. Unless, of course, you have more emotional breakdowns you want to take out on me?"

I gritted my teeth and crossed my arms.

Oh, he better believe I had more I wanted to say. But that would only prove him right, wouldn't it?

"Nope. I'm done for today."

"Have a wonderful day then."

I grunted unimpressed and then finally left his office. I went over everything as I traveled up to my bedroom to continue my studies, despite feeling in the mood to do the exact opposite, out of clear spite. But that would hurt me more than him.

Walking into my bedroom, I dropped into my bed with a sigh and ran a hand through my hair.

Just a few more weeks of this and I was done. Maybe he was right. Now that I had less distractions to deal with, maybe now I could focus harder on my future instead of crying about my past.

But exactly what kind of future was I working towards now, now that the whole jig was up?