It’s been two weeks since Caroline and Ben brought me to their home. After my mother showed up a few days after my trip to Chicago and Sarah threatened her with the police, it was my friend who called her parents. The couple drove all the way to Manhattan from Queens late in the evening. I didn’t want to leave my home, but they convinced me to go back with them. As it is, Sarah is working late these days, and she often crashes at the restaurant, so the idea of being home alone if my mother showed up again was unsettling, to say the least.
I didn’t want to sit on my hands and do nothing, so I offered to help her parents out at the cafe. I have plenty of experience working as a waitress when I was in college, so I’m not exactly being a burden. Besides, working with my hands and tiring myself out has been therapeutic in ways that expensive therapy sessions could never achieve.
I play with the salt shaker on the table, lost in my thoughts. I didn’t think I would actually resign. But seeing Rose three weeks ago reminded me of how my brother lost the woman he loved because he was in jail. Even though it was his own fault, I was a catalyst.
The guilt will forever live with me, a permanent resident in the darkest corner of my heart. I know how desperately Lucas loved her. I know that her family threatened to disown her if she married him after his brief stint in jail, causing her to break things off. I cost him a significant loss in his business because hewas meant to be meeting investors then. Word got around fast, and he lost those potential investors.
‘All because you couldn’t keep your legs closed!’
My mother’s words haunt me even now, and I let out a shaky breath.
How could I even fathom being with Ethan when… How can I believe this is not another attempt to humiliate my brother?
If I thought three weeks would be enough to forget about my boss, I was dead wrong. Late at night, when the world grows quiet and my defenses are down, he’s all I think about.
I don’t love him. I don’t.
I can’t.
But there is something there, something I can’t entirely ignore, like a melody that plays softly in the background of my thoughts. I used to be fascinated by who he was, but now when I think back to it, I don’t think it was love. How could it be? I didn’t even know him.
But the man he’s become now is dangerous. He’s dangerous to me and my heart. He treats me so tenderly. He respects me. I’m an equal in his eyes.
But then it’s also more than that.
I miss Ethan’s company. When we would be working together, there would be a comfortable silence between us. Our work ethics are so similar. He takes pride in what he does, which is why I enjoyed working for him. And he’s not a bad boss. He takes his employees into consideration. All of these speak to his solid character.
And it draws me in even further, like a moth to a flame, promising both warmth and destruction.
“Ugh,” I groan as I feel another cramp.
Folding in half, I wrap my arms around my stomach. I so rarely have stomach cramps, even when it’s my time of the month. But since the past two days, I’ve started having these sudden cramps that feel like someone’s twisting a knife insideme. I know I should go to a doctor, but I don’t want to go anywhere.
I’m still waiting for the inevitable phone call from the office. I spent the last two days selling off the jewelry and gold I had collected over the past five years. I know Sarah wants to help me pay off the penalty fees, but I’m not going to let her do it. This is my battle. I have to face it myself, even if I’m armed with nothing but stubbornness. I know I don’t have enough, but once I find another job, I should be able to pay it off.
It’s been three weeks, though, since I sent in my resignation, and there’s no word from the company. I know Ethan got my letter. Clarice confirmed it.
Yet he’s not made any attempt to contact me.
A part of me feels relieved. Has he accepted my resignation then? But another part of me feels disappointed, as if I was just not worth the effort to him. I know that is an unreasonable thought. I’m getting what I wanted.
But it hurts like a physical wound that refuses to heal.
“Natalie?”
I go still upon hearing the voice of the last person I expected to come here. My head whips around only to see Helen Wilder standing a few steps away, beaming at me, her elegant figure a stark contrast to the casual setting of the café.
“Why, it is you! How have you been, my dear?” She walks over to me before leaning down to kiss my cheek in a motherly fashion.
Straightening up, she studies me with concern, her eyes lingering momentarily on the healing scratches before quickly moving on. “Is it me or have you lost weight?”
“Mrs. Wilder?” I stammer, feeling like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t. “What are you doing here?”
She looks around. “There’s a lovely antique shop down the street. I wanted to visit it.”
“Oh.” I follow her gaze. There is indeed an antique shop onthis street, but for her to come all this way for a small, insignificant shop feels odd. About as believable as me saying I’m just taking a sabbatical from work.
“Were you meeting someone here?” Helen looks at the empty seat across from me expectantly, and I give her a weak smile.
