Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Instead, I find two tickets to a special event featuring my favorite comic book artist. They’re VIP meet-and-greet tickets that sold out months ago. Wills went out of her way to get these for me, and still gave them to me, even though I broke up with her. She’s such a rare, special person, and I don’t know if she sees that the way the rest of us do. She always puts others ahead of herself. She did it with every single promo op she had to help me through, and again when I proposed, and even now, maybe without even realizing it. It’s who she is at her core. She’s the most loyal person I know. The glue. My heart and soul.
I didn’t think it was possible to regret my choices more, but here I am.
CHAPTER 41
HEMI
Breakups suck. Work sucks. The little things I can usually ignore or let roll off my back now prick like needles. Topher Guy has become the bane of my existence. All I want to do is hibernate until the ache in my chest goes away. But it’s the busiest time of year in the Terror office, so that’s not possible.
On the upside, I set up a huge promotional opportunity for the women’s team that will give them incredible visibility. I want to tell Dallas, but since we’re not together anymore, I can’t. I rub my bare ring finger and feel another debilitating wave of sadness. I breathe through it, trying to center myself so I don’t get emotional at work. It was a knee-jerk reaction to leave the ring at his place when I went over to clear out my things. But it belonged to his grandmother, so I couldn’t keep it. And looking at it every day was too heartbreaking.
Being honest with myself about how I feel about Dallas Bright has been devastating. I love him in a way I never thought I’d love someone. Every time I reflect on the past couple of months, I see more of the truth of who he is and who we were together. But now we’re nothing.
I refuse to cry in front of work people. My friends are one thing, but I can’t let the colleagues who love to gossip see me break down. So I hole myself up in my office as much as possible to avoid running into the people most likely to shit-talk me.
An hour later, I’m fading. Sleep has been horrible—I’ve spent the past few days tossing and turning and waking in the middle of the night, unable to settle again. I head to the staff room, too tired to even make the trek across the street for a latte.
I regret the decision as soon as I enter the room. Two people from Topher’s department are sitting at the conference table, sipping coffees—Chad and Janessa. The room goes silent as I enter. I’m used to it, but it still stings every time. When I stopped wearing the ring, chatter followed. I could handle it when it was about me being too direct and blunt. This is so much worse. Being the center of office gossip because I was dating, then engaged to, and subsequently broken up with by a player is my worst nightmare.
I set the coffee to brew and busy myself with adding cream and sugar to my mug.
“I don’t know how you do it.”
I stiffen but don’t turn around.
“I wouldn’t be able to show my face in the office after being dumped by one of the players,” Chad continues.
Janessa coughs to hide a chuckle.
High school feels like a skip in the park compared to this. When I don’t fight back, they take it as an invitation to keep slinging shit.
“The whole thing is just so embarrassing.” His chair creaks as he slurps his coffee. “There’s a reason for the no-fraternization policy, and now you’re basically the poster child for why it’s there.”
“Oh my God, Chad.” Janessa snickers.
I drop my head, grateful that my hair provides a protective curtain, and struggle to stay in control. It doesn’t matter what I do or say; they’re just going to keep coming for me. Evidently, it’s open season. I’m tired of having to fight for my position. It makes me feel so small—like that unlikable girl all over again, the one Dallas’s friends would tease in the halls between classes. I don’t feel like a badass anymore—not even here, where I always have. I feel broken and insignificant.
But I roll my shoulders back anyway. I can’t just let them do this. It’s not right, and that matters. So I turn to face them. Chad is leaning back in his chair, smirk firmly in place. Janessa is focused on her coffee cup. So predictable.
“It must be so fun for you, watching the wicked witch fall. Do you think your cruelty makes you important? Does it feel good to shit all over me when you think I’m at my weakest? Should we give you an award at the next staff event?” To my absolute horror, my voice cracks and my vision blurs.