Текст книги "Beloved"

Автор книги: Corinne Michaels

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Two

It’s been the week from hell. Nothing has gone right. My car broke down and I spilled coffee on my shirt first thing this morning. Worse than anything, Jackson and I haven’t seen each other much. He’s coming with me today to the reading of my father’s will, which is also causing me extreme stress. Ashton wanted to be there for me, but she’s working on a breakthrough and it’s been keeping her in the city for the last week.

I’m working on the final version of Raven’s ad campaign today since the approvals finally came through. It’s been the only thing Jackson and I have argued about. I scheduled a few press releases, but he’s been fighting about getting in front of the camera.

“Cat,” Taylor’s sweet voice comes through the intercom.

“Yes?”

“I have Neil on the line. He says it’s urgent.” Taylor sounds as irritated as I am at his calling.

He’s been relentless. He calls or texts almost every day, but this is the first time he’s resorted to calling the office. He’s wearing me down and my patience is already nonexistent.

“Tay, I can’t do this today. Tell him I’m out of the office or whatever.” I drop my head on the desk, making a loud thump. Fucking Neil. Will this ever end?

Taylor comes in after getting rid of my annoyingly persistent ex. “He said he would try again later.” She’s wringing her hands as she sits to go over the Raven account.

“I don’t want to take his calls, so don’t even let me know anymore. Just don’t put it through. Okay?”

“Sure, no problem.” She smiles and nods her head.

“I have a meeting on Wednesday that I need the video ready for, so let’s get to work.” I return her smile and open my folder.

We have so much left to do to get things to where I want them. I’m an overachiever by nature, but I’m borderline obsessive on this one. It’s different when you know the client, even more so when you know them intimately. My need to please people is always a problem, but with Jackson it’s kind of scary. I want him to be blown away by what I’ve done.

“It’s almost time for you to leave,” Taylor reminds me. “Do you want to finish up Monday?”

“Oh shit! Yes, let’s plan to be in the office late next Monday and Tuesday. I need to have a few meetings with some magazines and meet with the marketing team. Plus, I need the print ads done before the release and the photo shoot.” I stand and smooth my black dress. I figured black would be appropriate. Even though I’m not going to a funeral, in a way it’s my own personal version of one. I’m saying good-bye to my father today in more ways than one.

“Sounds good.” She shifts her weight and looks away.

“What’s wrong, Tay?”

She doesn’t say a word as she walks over and wraps her slender arms around me. After a moment of her squeezing, she inhales and swipes at her eye, looking forlorn. What the hell is going on?

“Are you quitting? Is that what this is?” I ask, panicking.

“No! I felt like you needed a hug. You’ve had a lot happen in the last few months, and I can’t imagine today is going to be easy for you. I know you’ve been trying to pretend this isn’t happening. I’m just glad you won’t be alone.”

I didn’t want to tell Taylor or anyone in the office about my relationship with Jackson, but I trust her. That, and she saw how happy I was after the trip, so she knew something was going on. She knows what a risk I’m taking, but she’s genuinely excited about Jackson and me. This is the kind of person I want in my life. People like her remind me not everyone is awful. I didn’t even put two and two together as to what had her bothered, and come to find out it was concern for me.

“Thanks. I’ll be okay. Maybe I’ll finally get some closure.” I muster a small smile.

I hear someone clearing their throat and turn to see Jackson leaning against the door of my office with a huge grin.

“Jackson! What are you doing here? I thought I was meeting you at the lawyer’s office.” I smile as he walks toward me, taking in his perfectly tailored suit. He brushes my hair off my face and stares at me. All I can do is smile back in wonder. I’m so far gone—I’d be a fool to think otherwise.

“I was close. I figured I’d ride there with you,” he says, wrapping his arms around me.

Suddenly aware that we’re in my office, I quickly step back out of his embrace. It’s so easy to fall into a pattern with him and forget he’s my client. He may not care about my rules, but the bottom line is I can’t risk losing my job.

“Jackson, not here please,” I whisper, looking over at the wide open door.

Hurt flashes in his eyes before he recovers. “You almost ready to go?”

I step forward but keep a professional distance, allowing my eyes to convey all I can’t show him physically. The thin line between being his publicist and girlfriend can hurt both of us if it isn’t clear.

“You know how badly I wish I could wrap my arms around you? But you’re still my client and you promised. My assistant is outside the door and my boss could walk in at any moment. So I’m not trying to push you away. I’m asking you to think about how it would look.”

My heart stutters when I think about how thoughtful he was to come here and make sure I’m not alone on the ride over. Once again he’s giving me something I didn’t know I needed. He knows me. He gets me. It baffles me that he’s wormed his way through all my layers without any resistance. Well, very little resistance.

A slow, sexy smile glides across his features. “It’s fine, baby. In about three minutes we won’t be in your office. Remember, outside of our business relationship I make no promises.”

Returning his smile, I can see he wants to kiss me, but instead he strides out of my office.

Taylor and Jackson spend a few minutes talking and laughing while I clean up my desk. I grab my phone, unsurprised that I have a few missed calls from Neil, a text from Ashton, and another from Gretchen.

Ashton: Be strong and remember you’re loved.

Me: Thanks Biffle. I love you. See you tonight.

I check the next message from Gretchen and smile.

Gretchen: Call me if you need anything and text me a picture of the new hottie. Ashton said I’d shit myself.

Me: I will! Can’t wait for you to meet him.

Gretchen: Where’s my picture?

Me: You’ll get one soon.

I look up as Taylor glances over, eyes wide and mouth agape as she points to Jackson. I resist the urge to laugh—he is ridiculously gorgeous. But more than that, he sees me. He sees everything I am and doesn’t run.

I glance at the clock and close up my office. We only have about twenty minutes before we have to be there. “Come on. Stop flirting with the office staff.”

Taylor laughs and we say our good-byes. Jackson has a town car waiting downstairs for us—another sign of his thoughtfulness. We climb in and he clasps my hand in his. A sad smile spreads across my face. I’m glad he’s here with me. But as far as we’ve come in the short amount of time we’ve known each other, I can’t shake the feeling that it’s only a matter of time until Jackson walks away. It’s like there’s this barrier around him that only permits me to get so close, and I have a nagging feeling that he’s hiding something. I can’t put my finger on what exactly, but it’s there in the way he breaks off his thoughts sometimes or the forlorn look he occasionally gets when he thinks I’m not paying attention. It keeps me from trusting my emotions. I want to give myself freely, allow him into the deeper parts of me, but I need the same in return.

“Hey, you’re quiet. What’s going on?” Jackson says, breaking my inner thoughts.

“I’m just thinking. A lot could happen today.”

My nerves are all over the place. I don’t know what to expect. It’s not like I have anything to go off of.

He rubs his thumb across my soft skin and my heart flutters. “Did your father have any other relatives?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I mutter. “I don’t remember much about my father or his family. I know he had a brother, but I don’t think they were close.”

“These usually aren’t long. It’s really a formality,” he says and looks out the window, taking a moment to himself. As he faces forward again, I notice his eyes, glossy with unshed tears. Releasing my hand, he grips his pants, looking uncomfortable.

“You okay?”

Quickly he glances up, giving me a half-hearted smile. “Yeah. Sorry. I hate lawyers. Will your mother be there?”

I want to call bullshit but something holds me back. I hate a lot of things, but most don’t make me emotional. I take a moment to weigh my response. As much as I want to press him, we don’t have enough time and my head isn’t clear enough for anything too deep. “No. I didn’t even tell her about it. I don’t really want her to be there. Let’s just say our relationship is strained at best.”

“Were you always like that?” he asks.

No, sadly we weren’t.

“There was a time when we were close. She worked hard throughout my childhood to make sure we had the basics—food, shelter, clothing. Eventually, it wore on her. Being a single mother and having to raise me alone with no financial or emotional support from anyone else was hard. I remember my grandmother being around when my father first left, but she died when I was twelve. That was when everything fell to shit. My mother started trying to replace my father and I became irrelevant.

“There were times we had fun. I remember a family vacation to Florida, and I clung to that memory when I was younger. But the older I got, the more and more bitter she got, until I left for college—which she refused to help me with. She thought I was an idiot and wouldn’t make it through year one, let alone get a degree. I really hated her during that time. But I proved her wrong. I busted my ass and got grants and loans to pay for my education. I refuse to fail and school was no different.” I look away, embarrassed by my rant. I didn’t mean to tell him all that. A simple no would have sufficed.

The car slows and comes to a stop in front of a tall building. This will be the final piece to my father’s part in my life. The moisture builds in my eyes as I think of the few good memories I have of him—the times he showered me with adoration, when he sang to me, when we played games, and when he helped with my homework. It surprises me that I remember any of them since they weren’t a large part of my life. Still, they were all I had to cling to during my darker times.

Whatever’s showing on my face gives Jackson pause. “Catherine, what’s wrong?” The concern in his voice chips away at my resolve.

“I’m fine.” I turn away, trying to gather myself so I can face this. Suddenly it feels like the car is closing in—I need to get out of here. Practically falling out of the car, I right myself and clench my hands. I can do this. I can go in there, find out what I need to be here for, and leave.

Jackson is behind me in a heartbeat, turning me around to face him. “If you’re fine, then why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”

“I’m just … nervous.” I try to shrug it off so I can get this over with. Am I scared? Yes. Am I ready to lay to rest a piece of the puzzle that’s been missing since I was a child? Yes. I close my eyes, shake my head, and gather all the strength I can.

“You don’t have to do this. We can come back if you’re not feeling well.”

“Jackson, I have to do this now.”

“No, you don’t.” His jaw is set and his features appear angry, yet his voice is filled with empathy and understanding. “You need to be sure you’re strong and ready to face it. Let’s go up and reschedule. When you rush trying to get it over with, it only leaves a mess afterward.”

I glance at him curiously, wondering about that last statement. “No, I’m doing this today. If I leave here, I’ll never come back.” I take a step closer to him, grasping his hand in mine. My eyes soften and my heart swells from his concern. I need him. I need his strength even if it’s only him sitting beside me through this. “Please, I can’t do this alone.”

His body stiffens at my plea, but he doesn’t answer. I beg with my eyes as he looks away and releases my hand. He takes a deep breath and grips the back of his neck. Though it’s my father whose affairs we’re here to settle, by the way he’s acting you’d think Jackson was just as upset by this whole thing as I am. I can see how hard this is for him, but I don’t understand why. It goes beyond his worry for me. It’s personal. What inner struggle is he battling right now?

He takes a step forward. “I’m not going to make you do this alone. I promised I’d be here. If this gets to be too much, you say the word and we’re gone.”

I manage a half smile as I lift my head. Another piece of my battered heart was claimed by Jackson Cole.

“Thank you,” I say. Our fingers interlace as we enter the building.

Jackson lifts my hand, tenderly pressing his lips against my fingers. The whisper of his voice radiates to my heart as he gently says, “Of course.”

He lifts me up and keeps me safe. I hope he doesn’t let me fall.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Entering the upscale Manhattan law firm of Coogan, Goldstein & Leibowitz, the fear of the unknown is choking the life out of me. I have no idea what to expect or what my father could have left for me. All I keep thinking about are the possibilities—I could get answers today, or more questions. Why was I required to come to the office? Why couldn’t they have mailed me the paperwork? Is there something here I need to see? I can’t answer any of these questions, but they keep coming. What if he left some kind of video? Will I want to watch it? With each new thought comes a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. My fight or flight reflexes are in high gear, and if it weren’t for Jackson holding my hand, I’d be fleeing back into the elevator and getting the hell out of here.

Jackson gives my hand a small squeeze and I look at his apprehensive face. “I know you said we should do this today, but you’re pale and shaking.”

I’m shaking? I didn’t even notice.

“I’m just nervous because of all the possibilities. I don’t know what to expect. What if he had another kid and they’re here?” I somehow manage to choke the words out.

Stopping, he releases my hand and moves to cradle my head. My heart rate slows at his gentle touch. His eyes penetrate my fear and his voice is tender. “I’ll be here the whole time. All that’s going to happen is the lawyer will read the will, you’ll find out what you were left, and then we’ll go. No matter who else is here, if you don’t want to deal with them, you don’t. Okay?”

I give him a nod, trying to keep myself together while drawing strength from him.

We enter the office. It’s nondescript and simple—and empty. More than anything I’m grateful for this because if there were a long lost sister sitting here, I might have collapsed. Jackson’s strong hand grips mine. He’s pretty focused on making sure I’m not having an emotional breakdown. As long as he’s here, I’m okay.

Mr. Goldstein enters and shakes our hands. “Catherine, I’m Avi Goldstein. I’m the lawyer in charge of your father’s estate.”

“Nice to meet you. This is Jackson Cole, my …”

“Boyfriend,” Jackson finishes matter-of-factly.

My head whips around to look at him. Boyfriend? Well that was unexpected. After the last date we had, I guess it’s true, but it still shocks me. He didn’t hesitate or question, he seemed proud to say it. The smile on his face rocks me. I’m sure it mirrors mine, and I’m also sure my heart grew to twice its size.

Mr. Goldstein clears his throat and begins. “Nice to meet you both. I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms. Pope. I know these proceedings are hard, especially when you lose a loved one suddenly. Whether it’s a father, mother, or spouse it’s never easy. I hope you can find peace and closure.” Jackson’s hand releases mine abruptly. When I look at him, he seems anxious, uncomfortable. The loss of his warmth and support leaves me bereft. Jackson shoves his hand in his pocket and looks away.

“Thank you, Mr. Goldstein,” I say with a tremble in my voice. There will be no closure because I’ve gained no answers. I don’t even know how you close something that was never opened.

“Please, call me Avi. I assure you this is the least favorite part of my job. I was on your side not too long ago when my wife passed, so I’ll try to make this as easy as possible,” Avi says with a smile.

Suddenly Jackson gets up and walks over to the window. I can see his chest rising and falling powerfully.

“Jackson?”

He looks over with sadness in his eyes before returning to his seat.

“You were saying, Mr. Goldstein,” Jackson says. Any trace of sadness is gone, replaced by the mask of determination I’ve come to know so well.

Avi nods and begins. “I’ll get down to it. Your father’s estate is rather simple. You’re his next of kin. There are no other living relatives, so everything he possessed when he passed is now yours. There is a house in New Jersey as well as some cash and stocks. You were also named as his beneficiary on his life insurance. However, I asked you here so I could give you a letter from your father. His wishes were simple. You are to read this when you’re ready. He mailed it to me in a separate envelope with a letter asking for me to personally ensure you received it.” He stands, extending the letter to me.

A letter. From him. I stand and move forward. My hand is unstable when Mr. Goldstein places the letter in it. As I clasp my fingers around the envelope, a single tear escapes. This could contain all the answers to my doubt, or it could break my heart even more. Placing the letter on my lap, I cover it with my hand, holding on to the last piece of my father. Dread, pain, sadness, wonder, and so many more feelings seep through my veins at all the possible things this letter could say. Did he write it to tell me why he left? Why he never looked back? Will it tell me that I just wasn’t that important to him? All my insecurities come forward full force as the fear of what it could hold nearly cripples me.

“Ms. Pope, I didn’t know your father very well, but I met him a few times. He was a wonderful man. I truly hope he’s at peace.” Avi smiles kindly. “I’ll try to keep this brief. You are due to inherit quite a bit. All your assets total around $300,000 plus whatever the property is worth. His life insurance will need to be dealt with separately, but his policy was around half a million. It’s obvious he wanted you well cared for. Were you close?”

I glance at Jackson, completely overwhelmed. He extends his hand and I eagerly accept the warmth and solace he’s offering. Lacing my fingers with his, I try to fight back the tears as my heart shatters a little more. “No, Avi, we weren’t close. I haven’t spoken to my father in about twenty years. This is very overwhelming for me. I don’t really understand why he left me anything.”

“Well, I can’t answer for him, but maybe his letter will give you the answers you’re looking for. I just need you to sign the paperwork. I have the key here for the house and if there is anything else, I can call you.”

I place the letter and key in my purse and take a moment to collect myself. Walking over to the desk, my hands shake. This is it. The end. The finale to my father’s life. I’ll have no chance of finding out more. There are no living relatives, no family to ask. Whatever’s in the letter is all I’ll have.

The pen is shaking so hard I have to stop twice to try to get my hand under control. Tears stain the paper, and my heart plummets as I finally finish my signature. I let out a strangled sob and press my hand to my mouth to stop the pain trying to make its way out. Somehow I manage to smother it. Squaring my shoulders, I wipe away the tears staining my face.

Avi shakes my hand and places his other on top. “Catherine, even though you didn’t know your father, I know he loved you. My clients come to me because they want their loved ones to find peace and move on. Even when they’re gone they are always a part of us. We never have to truly let them go. They live in our hearts and memories forever.”

Closing my eyes, I absorb his words. “Thank you, Avi. I …” I shake my head, unable to speak, but the understanding in his eyes tells me he doesn’t need a response. He releases my hand with a sad smile and I gather my belongings.

Jackson stays quiet off to the side. As I approach, I notice his furrowed brow and the way he keeps gripping his neck as if he’s uncomfortable.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Once we’re out of the building, I take a deep breath and let the tears roll down my face again. It’s over. I have nothing left. I’m empty. All I want to do is rewind the last ten years and change it all. I want to know who my father was, why he made the choices he did, go back in time and rewrite my story—but I can’t. I miss a man I didn’t even know. How is that possible?

Jackson sees the tears and takes a hesitant step toward me. “I don’t want you to be alone. I’m staying with you tonight. No arguments.”

I couldn’t argue if I wanted to—which I don’t. If Jackson’s close, maybe I can keep it together long enough to read the letter burning a hole in my purse.

The train station is only a few blocks away, and I could use the walk. All I want to do is curl into Jackson, but since we left the office he hasn’t touched me. Even with my scattered mind, I’ve processed that much. Wherever Jackson is, it’s not here. Oh my God. I didn’t take into account how hard this might be for him with his history of loss and grief. Of course bringing up death would push him away. He’s never felt this distant to me. Now I know why. It was selfish to ask him to be with me today.

The two blocks seem to take forever, and with each step it feels like miles separate Jackson and me. He’s stiff and keeps his hands in his pockets while he processes whatever he’s feeling. I want to slap him and force him to talk because his silence is shredding me. Not because he’s doing anything wrong, but because I need to stop my mind from racing over what just happened. Both of us walk in silence until I can’t take it anymore.

“Jackson?” I ask tentatively.

He looks up but doesn’t respond. Every indication, from his tight jaw to his rigid posture, is saying he wants to be left alone.

“Forget it.” I look away, taken aback by his aloofness.

Neither of us says anything else as we approach the train. Where I was quiet and sad a moment ago, now my frustration is growing. If he didn’t want to be with me, then he shouldn’t have said he was coming to my place. He could’ve gone back home and left me alone. I could’ve processed this on my own instead of having him brooding next to me and adding to my stress. I need his arms, his strength, but right now all I’m getting is nothing.

I can’t take another second of this. “Are we going to talk or keep ignoring each other?” My voice is full of the annoyance I’m feeling. Part of it is directed at him, part at this entire day.

“What do you want to talk about?” he says with narrowed eyes.

Apparently he’s irritated by my approach. Good. “Oh, I don’t know. The weather? Why you’re being so quiet and haven’t said a word since we left the office? You can choose.” I’m being a total bitch, but at this point I really don’t care.

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your attitude.” Jackson huffs with a sarcastic smile as the train approaches.

“You said you wanted to come back to my place. I didn’t ask you to.”

His answer comes fast and angry. “I know that.”

“If you didn’t want to be around me or whatever, you didn’t have to.” I throw over my shoulder as I board the train. Fuck him. He wants to be a jerk, he can do it alone. I’m going home, pouring myself an overflowing glass of wine, and finding the courage to read this freaking letter.

Just thinking about it makes me nauseous. There are so many things it could say, some of which I’m not ready to face. But I know myself well enough to know I’ll never sleep if I don’t get it over with soon. His attitude isn’t helping.

I’m facing the window, refusing to look at him, when the seat next to me moves. He doesn’t say a word, but the warmth of his hand on my leg stills me and a tear falls from the corner of my eye. God! I’m a mess! One minute I’m livid, and then he touches me and I cry.

“I want to be with you. That’s why I’m here.” His voice is low, full of the strength I’ve come to rely on.

I turn and face him, hopeful that he means that. “This isn’t easy for me, you know? Trusting you, letting you be here for me. You don’t understand how hard this is.”

He wipes the tears from my face and gently cradles me to his chest. “I know more than you think.”

“How so?” My voice is barely a whisper, but I know he hears me when he lets out a long breath. I sit up and stare at him through blurry eyes, waiting for his answer.

The pain that lances across his perfect face erases all my anger.

“You know about the fucking hell I’ve been through, Catherine. Do you think I wanted anyone around me? I hated myself. I hated everyone who talked to me, touched me, or made me feel. I wanted to die with them.” His hand touches his chest and then moves to his shoulder. “You can’t imagine the man I was during that time. Anger?” He scoffs before going on, “Baby, you can’t imagine what angry looked like. So you want to be mad at me, be mad.”

The train stops, halting our conversation. I don’t fully understand his withdrawal. He’s the one who’s pushed me repeatedly, and now suddenly he’s retreating? And yes, I’m mad. I’m mad at him, at my father, at my mother, and anyone else who made me this way.

As we exit the train, my mind begins to wander, thinking about the pain he must have been in. Losing people you know and love, people who understand you and stand beside you … I can’t think about any of this right now. My brain can’t contain any more. I want to change into my comfy clothes, drink a bottle … errr glass of wine, and forget this day ever happened.

Standing here, facing each other, the silence stretches for miles. Both of us trying to read the other. Both lost in some form of grief. Gripping my hips, he pulls me close. I close my eyes and relish his embrace. Here I feel okay. I’m safe when his arms are around me, protecting me, but is my heart? In this moment I don’t care. I mold to him, allowing his strength to surround me.

“I won’t let you fall. I’ll be here, but sometimes I’m going to be a dick. Sometimes I’m going to say the wrong thing. But if I didn’t want to be here with you, I would’ve walked away.”

I look up and the sincerity on his face matches what I heard in his voice, but the last thirty minutes did nothing to allay my fears. If anything, my doubts have intensified. “Then why were you so distant before?” I ask.

He speaks in a low, hushed tone. “Today brought up a lot of memories for me. Memories I’ve tried extremely hard to forget.”

Jackson takes a deep breath and places his hand on the small of my back as we start walking to my apartment. He’s silent for a few minutes and I sense he needs the time to collect his thoughts.

“I just want to he—” I stop short when I see someone in front of my apartment complex.

Neil. Why the hell is he here? Today of all days. My stomach drops as the reality of my past and present collide. I’ve tried to get rid of him. Ignoring him hasn’t worked, so now he’s apparently going to stalk me. Great. My body begins to tremble, shaking uncontrollably as fear, anger, and hate overtake me.

“Catherine?” Jackson asks, looking for whatever caused me to freeze.

Neil steps forward with his eyes fixed on Jackson. “Well, it seems you didn’t miss me all that much, did you?” he sneers.

“What do you want?” I return acidly.

“I’ve been calling. We have to talk. You have something that’s mine,” Neil says.

Obviously he’s been calling and I’ve been avoiding him. I swear he wasn’t this stupid before. Or maybe he was but I was too blind to see it. Either way, I don’t think I can handle this confrontation today.

“I have nothing of yours,” I say, trying to step around him.

Jackson moves next to me, angling his body so he’s between us. “Who the hell are you?”

Neil steps to the side, blocking me from getting past him. He jerks a thumb toward Jackson. “Who’s this guy?”

Jackson takes a step closer to Neil, who huffs and steps back.

“I’m her fiancé,” he says with a sardonic smile.

“No, you’re not!” I scream. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He’s purposely trying to ruin my life. Why? What the hell did I ever do to him? He broke my heart and I didn’t do a damn thing to retaliate. I didn’t steal from him, hurt his precious career, cheat on him, or anything else. Now he stands in front of my apartment, trying to take something else from me. Rage pulses through my body with each heartbeat. The first good thing I have he’s going to try to ruin. I look to Jackson whose eyes are wide. No! He can’t believe this.

Jackson stands there and crosses his arms across his broad chest as he lets out a mocking laugh. “Care to explain?”

I’m struggling not to cry. The emotions I’ve been swallowing all day are making their way back up. “Jackson, this is my ex-fiancé. He’s a liar and a piece of shit!”

“Don’t let her fool you,” Neil sneers from behind me.

I’m unable to control myself anymore. I’m done. I’m lost. There’s no stopping me as I unload my anger in Neil’s face. “Shut the fuck up! You cheated on me! Why are you here? We haven’t been together for months! Go away!” I’m breaking. Every single part of me is falling apart.

I turn back to Jackson. The look on his face makes my stomach clench. He looks like he’s wavering between anger and pride. Both of us are dealing with too much right now, but I desperately need him to listen me.

“None of this is true! He’s with another woman. He’s lying!” I yell, feeling my sanity slip away. “This is Neil Mullins. He works for Boyce. We were engaged and then he cheated on me with Piper.” This is definitely not how I planned to talk about my ex, if I ever decided to talk about him at all. I implore him to believe me with my eyes. “Jackson, please. We’ve been over for months!”

Neil barks out a laugh. “Your memory is a little off, love. You stole my numbers so I left you. I should’ve had the Raven account. Now, I want my fucking ring and the money you owe me back.”