Brightly Burning Bridges by Ivy Wild
I stood alonein my new penthouse apartment, completely at a loss for what to do next. I had clearly said something that upset Silas. Either that or he’d read something on his phone that was alarming. I slapped the sides of my face with my hands and scrunched my eyes shut in frustration.
Silas was the definition of frustration and even after all these years, I still hadn’t figured him out. For a time, I thought I understood him, his motivations, his flaws, his needs, pretty well. But he’d proven to me back then just how wrong I’d been. And I guess he was still trying to prove it to me now.
But, if there was one thing I’d learned from being around Silas, there was no use wallowing in his actions and I was way past waiting around for him to come back and apologize. That ship had sailed ten years ago and it still hadn’t made its way back around. I gave myself another second to feel sorry for my situation and then made my way to the Master suite I hadn’t had a chance to explore yet.
It was obvious this place had been decorated by Silas. The entire thing screamed minimalist bachelor, including the bedroom. The chrome and black leather platform bed faced a large television mounted to the wall and the dresser and nightstands were a glossy black with giant chrome handles. How very Bruce Wayne of him.
I let myself fall onto the black bedspread and looked up at the oversized ceiling fan which had an array of mirror tiles built around it so I could see myself clearly. I rolled my eyes, realizing just what those were probably for.
“You confuse and frustrate me, Silas Jenkins,” I said to the non-existent camera I was ten percent sure existed somewhere in that ceiling fan.
