The breath halted painfully in my lungs as I opened my mouth, but no words came out. At her question, all the memories I'd locked tight into a black box in my mind came tumbling out, one after another, after another. The pieces of my time with him that I missed so desperately. And it showed on my face, I knew that like I knew my own name.
"Dammit, Molly," she said under her breath. "You lied to me. You lied to me."
I stood slowly, hand clutched to my chest. "Beatrice, I'm so sorry."
"I wish you hadn't done that." She shook her head, gripping the back of the chair even more tightly. "I can't make an exception for you, Molly. I had a rule, and you violated it."
The reality of what she was saying had my skin rushing hot again, blood pooling under the surface in a way that had my face blazing with embarrassment. "Beatrice, please."
She held up a hand. "I had specifically laid out the rules in that job agreement that we discussed and that you signed. One was my no fraternization with the crew or any subject of the documentary. And two was the discussion we had about honesty. About trust." She paused, and her eyes went suspiciously bright. "Do you know how furious I was when I thought someone had taken advantage of you? I looked you in the eye, and I took you at your word when you told me nothing had happened. I trusted you."
My voice cracked when I interrupted, a messy, inconvenient truth falling from my lips. "I fell in love with him, Beatrice. It wasn't some meaningless fling."
It was the first time I’d admitted it out loud, and my heart squeezed painfully.
"And in the process, you broke the trust I had in you," she threw back. "Now, I look back on you requesting the change in your role, and I question it. I question your ability to set your emotional state aside and do your job. I question your ability to think through your choices before you make them."
Dashing a tear away from my cheek, I cursed how easily I seemed to cry when it came to anything surrounding that giant brute of a man. "I've been doing my job," I told her. "And I've been doing it well. You know I have."
"Was it about Noah? Your request?"
Slowly, I nodded.
Beatrice dropped her head and sighed heavily. "Thank you for being honest, Molly." Then she lifted her gaze back to me, and I felt very much like someone about to face a one-woman firing squad.
Ready.
Aim.
And her finger squeezed.
Fire.
"You have until noon to clean out your desk. Your employment with the Washington Wolves has been terminated. Someone from HR will be here shortly to take care of the paperwork."
I sank back into my seat and dropped my head into my hands, tears falling freely now as she walked quickly out of my office. For my whole life, this place had been a hub, a central figure for my family. Even before my dad died, before my mom walked away. I couldn't remember a time when I hadn't run through the halls like I owned them. And now, I'd be walked out with a box in my hands. The fact that she'd left me alone at all should've made me feel slightly better because even though I'd lied, even though I'd broken her rules, she trusted me enough to give me some privacy.
At a moment like this, a girl would normally call her mom. My hands shook as I picked my phone up from my desk and thumbed down my favorite contacts. The phone rang once before Logan's wife, Paige, picked up.
"What's up, buttercup?"
At the sound of her voice, I broke down, blubbering and crying and failing to get even a few intelligible words out.
"Molly, Molly, calm down," she instructed. "I'm driving, and hang on, I'm pulling over, but I need you to tell me if you're hurt. Are you okay?"
"Beatrice just fired me," I got out.
"What?" Paige yelled. "Oooh, I will burn that bitch's house down."
A watery laugh escaped me. "I messed up, Paige."
"Oh honey, you couldn't have messed up that bad. You're so good at your job," she said. "Hang on, let me text your brother."
"No, Paige, don't interrupt his practice." I inhaled, slowly getting control over my tears. "I'll come over after I leave here. I have until noon to clear out my things."
She was quiet and, knowing my sister-in-law, quiet was dangerous.
"Paige," I said again.
"Hmm?"
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing. Just … imagining you having to box up your desk and how that makes me want to rip her hair out."
I laughed again. "I hope Emmett isn't in the car with you. You're way too bloodthirsty to be in mom-mode right now."