“Don’t let the love of your life walk away because you’re scared that you’re going to lose her.”
“It’s inevitable, Tristan . . . eventually, she will leave. Her hand will be forced.”
“And then what will you be?” he snaps. “A lonely, stressed-out, alcoholic CEO?”
My eyes rise to meet his.
“Oh, wait.” He gestures to my drink. “That’s already happening.” He shakes his head in disgust. “When I find my woman, I’ll move heaven and hell to keep her.”
“Get out.” I sigh. “You have no idea what you’re fucking talking about.”
“Actually, I’m kind of glad I’m getting to watch you fuck up your life,” he calls as he walks toward the door. “Now I know what not to do.”
I sip my scotch as the door slams hard behind him.
My buzzer on my desk sounds, and I push the button. “Yes, Sammia.”
“The detectives are here to see you, sir.”
I drain my glass . . . good, a distraction. “Thank you, send them in.”
Emily
“A toast.” Molly smiles as she holds her glass up.
Aaron and I hold our glasses up to touch hers.
“To new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings,” we all repeat.
“You’re going to be great.” Aaron smiles. “You watch—you’ll be taking over the news floor within no time.”
We’re out to dinner in a bar and celebrating. I start my new job tomorrow. It’s been a week since I left Miles Media.
Feels like a lifetime ago.
I was going to go home and see my parents, but I just didn’t have the mental energy. I stayed home for some self-love instead. I needed time alone to lick my wounds and heal. I had a few massages, got some Reiki done to calm my heartache, ate healthy, and went for two runs a day to exhaust myself so that my body had no choice but to sleep at night.
I’m okay . . . empty, but doing okay.
I’ve stopped reading the paper so that I don’t have to see his name. On my runs, I go the other way so I don’t have to see the Miles Media building or restaurants or anything that would remind me of him or our time together.
Him . . .
I can’t even bring myself to say his name.
He’s been put into the vault, and nobody dares mentioning him to me. It’s like he never existed . . . and maybe he never did.
“What are you wearing tomorrow?” Molly asks as she cuts into her steak.
“I thought my navy suit.” I chew my food. “I want to look professional and smart.”
“No gray skirt?” Aaron smirks.
I wipe my mouth with my napkin. “I threw that fucker out.”
“What?” Molly shrieks. “I loved that skirt! I would have had it.”
“That was a troublemaking skirt,” I reply. “Trust me; you don’t want that kind of negativity in your life.”
“Here, here.” Aaron lifts his glass, and we clink again.
“Michael asked me out on a date on Saturday night,” Molly says casually.
My knife and fork hit the plate with a clang as my eyes rise to meet hers. “What?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know what to make of it, really.”
“Did he ask you out for a casual dinner? Are you sure it’s a date?” Aaron frowns.
“No, his exact words were, ‘Would you like to come out on a date on Saturday night?’”
I smile. “Are you going to go?”
“I don’t know.” She sighs. “So much water has passed under the bridge between us. We’ve just got to a place of trust and friendship again. I don’t want to ruin it.”
“By fucking him?” Aaron smirks as he bites into his food.
“Well, if I did fuck him, and he didn’t use double Viagra on me, I would be mortally offended. I know what tricks he has in his toolbox now.”
We all giggle.
“God, that night was funny,” I add, remembering him passing out from all the blood in his dick.
Molly rolls her eyes. “For you, maybe.”
We fall silent as we eat.
“Good luck for tomorrow, babe,” Aaron says.
“Thanks, guys.” I smile. “You are the best two things about New York.”
“God, you’re so right,” Molly mutters into her glass. “And these margaritas.” She raises her glass to show me. “So should I go out with Mike?”
“Yes,” Aaron and I gasp. “Go.”
“Emily.” Athena smiles as she wraps her arms around me. “It’s so good to see you. Welcome.”