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“You know what,” he snaps.
I close the door and turn to study him. He looks like a wreck. Dark circles are under his dull green eyes. His hair is a mess, like he’s been running his fingers through it all night.
I hate seeing him like this.
“So, you got my email then,” I try to joke, and he glares at me.
“Yeah, and I’m here to find out what happened.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“Yeah. I thought that we were happy. I thought that everything was good. Then, out of nowhere, you quit. What happened?” He asks me.
I swallow hard, torn between telling him the truth or making up some lie so that he doesn’t hate me for lying about who I really was when he hired me.
In the end though, I can’t lie to him anymore. That’s why I quit in the first place because I didn’t want to lie to him anymore.
“You should sit down,” I tell him with a sigh, and he looks concerned.
He makes no move to sit. It’s like he wants to be ready to catch me if I try to make a run for it.
“What’s going on? Talk to me, and we can figure it out. I can help you,” he promises me, and I want to burst into tears.
“You’re too nice. I don’t deserve that,” I choke out, and he frowns.
“Pia,” he says softly as he tugs me into his warm embrace. “Please, just tell me what’s going on. I’ve been so worried.”
His hands smooth over my back, trying to comfort me as my tears seep into his suit. I’m not even sure when I started crying, but now that I’ve started, I can’t seem to stop.
“I lied to you,” I mumble against his chest.
“What?” He asks, pulling away slightly.
“I lied to you,” I tell him, louder this time. “I can’t keep working for you.”
“Okay, why not?” He asks.
“I just… I can’t,” I say, chickening out.
“Okay, I don’t understand, but maybe in time, you’ll trust me and open up. I still want to see you though. We can still be together,” he tells me as he tries to wipe away my tears.
“No!” I blurt out. “No, we can’t.”
I try to pull away from him, but his grip on me tightens.
“Pia,” he starts, and I shake my head.
“I can’t,” I say, a fresh wave of tears spilling onto my cheeks. “You’ll hate me.”
“I could never hate you,” he tells me vehemently.
I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep lying to him. I can’t keep putting off the inevitable.
“I’m not Nichole,” I tell him, ripping myself out of his hold.
He reaches for me again before he blinks.
“What?” He asks.
