“Hey! Rude.”
She lifts a shoulder as if she couldn’t care less.
I can’t help the smile that pulls my lips. “You’re funny.”
“I’m sarcastic. There’s a difference.”
“I’ll go with funny.” I grab my bag from my desk, trying to ignore the interns’ cutting gazes. Jane doesn’t even pay them any attention and keeps studying her black nails.
Soon after, we take the elevator to the parking garage. “Hey, Jane.”
“What?”
“You really don’t know who I am?”
“You said you were Gwen.”
“Yeah, right.” I don’t know why I feel giddy because someone actually doesn’t associate me with Dad, the firm, or anything.
I’m just Gwen. And that’s liberating.
The moment the elevator opens, my smile drops and so does my heart. Because Aspen is getting in Nate’s car and she’s smiling. No, she’s laughing, and he’s smiling.
Aspen is in Nate’s car and she’s happy and it’s lunchtime.
But that’s wrong.
Yes, I know they’re close, but she’s not supposed to be with him during lunch and be happy about it. Or maybe this is normal, but my head doesn’t understand that logic right now.
I’m not thinking as I let my legs take over and start walking toward the car. The same car he picked me up in on our wedding day. The same car that Aspen shouldn’t be getting into while she’s all smiles like that.
But I’m late, because the car has already left the parking garage. It’s already out and I’m standing here, staring at the exit with the sound of the tires and Aspen’s laugh echoing in my ears.
And I want to chop off my ears and feed them to the nearest dog.
“Gwen?”
I slowly look away from the exit to focus on Jane. For a second, I forgot she was there, that she almost saw me make a fool out of myself.
Because I shouldn’t. I’m fine, right? It doesn’t matter who Nate spends his lunch with or that he returns her smile or that she only laughs with him.
“Are you okay?” Jane runs a hand in front of my face. “You look like you’re having a stroke.”
“I’m fine. Fiiiine. Yeah, totally fine.”
“You don’t look fine. If you were a PC, I’d run a malware check. But I can’t, so I’m lost here.”
That earns a smile from me. “I don’t think any malware checks can fix me or what I saw.”
“What you saw? You mean Aspen?”
“You know her?”
“Who doesn’t? She’s the only woman around here with balls bigger than some men.”
“So you like her?”
“Not specifically. But I like what she does. We need more women like her.”
“I heard Kingsley Shaw hates her, like, loathes and despises her because she’s a witch.” God, I’m stooping so low, even using Dad like this—sorry, Dad—but it’s because of what I saw that I can’t help it.
“I heard he’s an egotistical jerk.”
“Hey!” My voice cracks, feeling the jab on behalf of my father.
She lifts a shoulder. “All I’m saying is there are always two sides to every story. Just because Kingsley hates her doesn’t mean she’s bad. Besides, Nathaniel is more important and he likes her.”
“He…doesn’t.”
“Of course, he does. I recently joined the firm and even I know that everyone is betting on when they’ll get married.”
They won’t, because he’s married to me. I want to shout that, but I can’t. And what’s the point anyway? When everyone at the firm believes that Nate and Aspen suit each other.
My opinion doesn’t matter.
Then why does it feel like my heart is about to splinter into a million pieces?
My mood takes a sharp dive for the rest of the day.
Instead of working at my desk amid the hostility, I take the case files and hang with Jane. And by hang, I mean that I work while she types away at her computer.
All the time, I can’t stop thinking about the scene I saw in the parking lot. The synergy between them, the laughs and smiles, and I clink my nails against each other so hard, I break one.
Then I accidentally get a paper cut and my thumb bleeds, and it’s supposed to hurt, but I don’t feel the pain. Because the real pain is banging on the walls of my ribcage.
So I review the case files. All of them. That’s what I do when I’m stressed. I enter high-functioning mode.