And I needed to finish them so I could see him again. I couldn’t just go to his office without having done my work. But now, I have.
So I reorganize the files and the Post-it Notes I made for each detail that could be used as a weakness, as well as my observations through some research I did myself and any advanced research I asked Jane to help with.
I’m feeling confident when I’m carrying them to his office. I did a great job.
My phone vibrates and I juggle the files in one hand and check the text with the other.
Chris: Hey, stranger.
I clink my nails under the papers. After everything that happened over the last couple of weeks, I kind of ghosted my college friends, Chris included. He came by the house soon after Dad’s accident and I told him I needed time to wrap my head around things.
And I did.
The result is that I can’t keep dragging him into my mess anymore. I guess I was just too hopeful when I thought he could make me forget.
I realize now that no one can.
So I type with one hand.
Me: Hey! Sorry I haven’t been around.
Chris: And here I thought you forgot about me.
Me: I haven’t. We need to talk.
Chris: Now?
Me: In a bit.
Chris: Where are you? I’ll pick you up.
Me: I’ll send you the address.
He really doesn’t need to since I have my car, but I forget all about that because I’m in front of Nate’s office and I have all the work done.
So I send him my current location and hide the phone.
“Miss Shaw,” Nate’s assistant, Grace, greets me. She’s a middle-aged woman with a kind smile that I’ve always found heartwarming.
“Is Nate in there? I finished the case files and I think I have solid footing on some weaknesses.”
“He went home for the day.”
“He…what?”
“He went out for lunch and said he wouldn’t be coming back for the rest of the day. I’ll hand them to him tomorrow morning.”
The world starts spinning and it takes superhuman control to place the files on Grace’s desk.
I didn’t hear it wrong.
Nate went out to lunch and called it a day.
With Aspen.
He’s been with Aspen all this time.
The shards that splintered in my chest earlier are digging their way into my heart and I can’t fucking breathe.
But I have to. I need to breathe.
So I go outside to do just that.
15
Gwyneth
“Are you listening, Gwen?”
I slide my attention from my assaulted vanilla milkshake that I’ve been jamming the straw in and out of to Chris, who’s staring at me with a furrowed brow.
He came to pick me up earlier and we’ve been sitting in a coffee shop and talking. Well, he’s ended up doing all the talking while I’ve been thinking about other things.
Like what was Nate doing with Aspen the entire afternoon?
For hours.
Alone.
She didn’t even leave in her car.
Logically, I shouldn’t be this affected, because I have no hold on him, right? Except maybe I do. After all, there’s a marriage certificate that says he’s married to me, and it should go without saying that he doesn’t leave with a woman who isn’t me.
It’s only on paper. The marriage isn’t real.
“Are you still upset about your dad?” Chris tries again.
He’s such a gentleman. Like the best ever, and he’s hot, too, with his leather jacket, medium-length hair, and his pouty lips that are good at kissing.
But I don’t think kissing should feel good. There needs to be a shattering quality to it. Maybe something like the feeling that’s now taking asylum in my chest.
It’s supposed to hurt. To tear someone from the inside out and make them bleed out.
But is being hurt and shredded to pieces the correct thing to do?
Maybe Nate’s right. Maybe safe is what I should choose. Because who wants to be ripped apart with no hopes of ever pulling themselves together again?
Me, apparently, because the longer I stare at Chris, the surer I am that he isn’t who will give me what I wish for.
“It’s not about Dad.” I stare at my milkshake, following the swirl of my straw before looking up at him. “I’m sorry, Chris.”
“For what?”
“For leading you on. I promise I didn’t mean to, but…”
“You’re just not that into me, huh?”
I wince.
“It’s okay, though my pride is a bit wounded. Now, I think Jen is right and you used me for the Harley.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re perfect.”