Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
I very slowly peel myself off the floor. I throw the pregnancy test in the trash can, wash my hands and my face, and exit the bathroom.
I can hear Granny moving above me. She’s singing something soft, and even though I can’t hear the words, it’s comforting. The scent of cookies drifts down to me, and I imagine going upstairs and curling into Granny’s warm arms the way I have since I was a child. I imagine her taking away the hurt at the thought of quitting my job and never seeing Philippe again. Yes, it does sting. Yes, somehow, along the way, I guess I developed some sort of feelings. Yes, they might be the opposite of hate. And yes, they might even be close to something tender. I want her to take away the uncertainty of not having a job, of bringing a new life into the world.
I just want her to tell me that everything is going to be okay.
I know no matter how disappointed, stunned, or even angry she might be, in the end, she will. She loves me. She’s my hero, my role model. And she’s the strongest, sweetest, most amazing lady in the entire world. She taught me how to be brave, how to be kind. She gave me her wisdom and her strength, and she loved me. Always.
I know no matter how hard or rough things get, everything will be okay. It always has been before. And it will be again. Even if my heart feels a little bit broken, Granny will show me how to knit it back together again. At least, I hope so.
CHAPTER 16
Philippe
Though it’s up for debate, I’m not actually an idiot.
I know that not everything is right between Sutton and me. I can’t just turn off what happened a month ago at Jennifer’s wedding. I can’t just shut off the fact that Sutton isn’t just an admin assistant. I want her to be more, but I don’t know how to tell her. I’m pretty sure she’s done with being a fake girlfriend and done with doing things she shouldn’t have done with me because I am who I am, and she is who she is, and never the twain shall meet.
I wasn’t blind to the fact that there was this undercurrent between us. Not regret, exactly, but it was strained. It wasn’t hopeful because neither of us knew how to hope. I didn’t know what to do with my attraction, with my feelings. I was stuck between feeling them and admitting it. Not just because I was afraid of rejection, which I was, but also because we work together, and I’m supposed to be setting an example. I feel like I’m under a microscope here, and banging my secretary isn’t something I’m proud of.
I wouldn’t exactly call what I feel pride. It’s more like I enjoyed myself. I felt connected. I felt something real.
On Monday morning, I roll into my office early since I want to look over the reports—I had Sutton working on them late Friday afternoon—just to make sure there aren’t any errors that can be pointed out to me in the middle of a meeting again. I know I overreacted about it the last time, and I know it’s my job to make sure these reports get put out correctly, so I’m going to do it.
I find Sutton’s email sitting in my inbox. She sent it late Friday night. I feel a twinge of guilt when I realize it came in at just after eight. She was in the office at eight at night. Still. While I wasn’t doing my reports. I know I need to delegate and all that, and this is part of that, but I still feel bad about it. She doesn’t get paid for those extra hours. She never has. She puts them in because she cares.
I click on the email and start reading.
To say it’s not what I expected is a massive understatement.
Philippe,
First of all, I know you’re probably going to be pissed about this, so before you even go and get mad, please consider that I had to do this. For me. Because it was the right thing to do. Because I needed to do it. I used to think you were a selfish asshole, but now I know that’s not true. I actually think you could be a pretty nice guy if you tried.
I worked late on Friday to finish these reports for you, but I also packed up my office. I know if I talked to you about it before I did it, you would think of a million reasons why I shouldn’t quit, and you’d eventually convince me to stay. I couldn’t. I think you know why I couldn’t. Please believe this has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. You didn’t make me feel like I had to leave or quit or anything. You were always professional. You acted like a grown-up, and I really do thank you for that.