Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I tell myself that as I step out of the elevator and walk to my office, my shoulders pulled back and my chin high.
I have to pretend that this is just like any other day at the office. After all, for everyone else, it is. No one knows what happened between me and Asher. No one can see my broken heart even though I feel like it’s hanging outside my chest. And no one has to know.
I’ve dried my tears. I’ve put on my makeup, including a generous amount of concealer. I have a nice dress. I have my full armor. I can’t let anyone see through me.
As I pass by a row of cubicles, I feel some stares, and for a moment I get worried that they might have found out that Asher and I had a fight. But then I remember that yesterday, I fled Asher’s office shortly after Ethan and Ryker showed up. That’s probably why they’re staring. That’s probably what they’re speculating about.
They can speculate all they want. I don’t care.
I manage to get to my office just fine. Yes, I’m fine. I sit behind my desk and start to work. I’m off to a good start, too. But then, the worst happens.
Asher passes by. He passes in front of my office and turns his head so our eyes meet for just a moment, too brief to convey any meaning. Then he’s gone. I freeze.
Once, when I was in an emergency room in Zurich because of a sprained ankle and I was waiting for the swelling to go down, I overheard the nurses talking. They were talking about one of their fellow nurses who had refused to show up to work because her boyfriend had broken up with her. I thought it was silly. Why refuse to work just because of a broken heart? Why not work so you can forget about your problem? That’s what I normally do.
But now, I understand why someone wouldn’t want to come to work after a breakup. And it’s even harder when the one you broke up with is your boss.
I close my eyes and draw a deep breath.
Breathe, Violet. Just breathe.
~
I can’t breathe.
I thought things would gradually get easier, but it’s been three days and the pain remains as sharp. Each time I see Asher, I feel like my chest is being opened and my heart is being broken to pieces all over again.
And I’ve just seen Asher. We were just in a meeting together which lasted more than an hour, and the whole time I was sitting next to him pretending to be okay, trying not to look at him. But I ended up looking at him anyway, and I still couldn’t help but think about how hot he is and I still ended up feeling miserable knowing he’s no longer mine.
So here I am hiding in an empty cubicle, trying to breathe.
If I don’t, I just know I’ll start crying, and I can’t do that right now.
Just breathe.
“There you are, Ms. Cleary,” Asher’s voice interrupts my breathing.
Fuck.
“I was wondering where you’d gone after the meeting. I just had to give you this.”
He hands me a flash drive. I try to look at it instead of him.
“It contains the report we discussed during the meeting. I’d be happy if you added the items you suggested.”
I nod. “Sure.”
“Thank you.”
He leaves.
Wow. That’s it? Not so much as ‘What are you doing hiding here?’ or ‘Are you okay?’ He really no longer cares about me at all?
He’s been cold to me before, but this is different. This is indifference. It makes me think he never really cared about me at all.
I run toward the restroom because I can no longer breathe and I just know I’m about to cry, but I bump into Stella on the way.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her sincerely. “I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?”
She touches her belly and shakes her head. “No, no. The baby’s fine.”
“Good. I’m sorry. Really, I am. But I have to go.”
I start to run off.
“Violet?” Stella calls after me.
I stop.
“Are you okay?”
Tears sting the back of my eyes. Why did she have to ask me that question? Why did she have to care? Now, I feel… not okay.
“Violet?” Stella stands in front of me.
I say nothing. I can’t speak. If I open my mouth, I might start sobbing.
She should just leave me alone before I explode into a mess.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she grabs my hand and pulls me down the corridor. I’m confused.
“Where are we going?” I ask her.
“To have ice cream,” she answers. “It looks like you need a few scoops.”
~
I didn’t realize I did until I finished four, which must be a record for me.
As I place the spoon I’ve licked clean in the empty bowl, I feel better. I also feel a bit colder, but I do feel better. It’s like how you feel when you’ve been jogging for miles and you feel like giving up and then you suddenly feel this cold breeze on your face. Or like that snowball someone throws in your face when you don’t want to play because you’re sulking.