Didn’t he say he wanted nothing to do with you again?

I draw closer to the bedroom and my hands grow sweaty and my stomach clenches in fear. It was only ten steps away, and the door was on my right. The door opens and Rory walks out of the bedroom in nothing more than his shorts. He seems to have a good day at home, probably working out and taking his frustration out on the punching bags. He’s holding a bottle of champagne in his left hand and a glass in his. His hair is messy, and he seems to have been fooling around. He’s also breathing heavily, chuckling...