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And yes, it aches to think of my ex-fiancé and how he’d tried to break me down and take over my life, but he’s not around anymore. I mean, I’m legally obligated to say he’s not dead. No, I booted him out of my life.
I’ve come so far and achieved so much. And I’m proud of myself.
I wonder if Clifton could be turned around with some sense of accomplishment. Maybe it’s a lack of power and control in his life that makes him act out. There’s always a reason - I’ve learned that in my line of work. I might not always understand or agree with the reason, but there is a reason for everything people do.
My ex’s face nags behind my eyes. Internally, I hear his voice chiding me. Telling me I haven’t earned everything I have. That I’m worthless and stupid, and I’ll never amount to anything. I think about how, in the breakup, my family chose him. He’d managed to convince everyone - throughout our whole relationship - that I was the abusive and cruel one, and I lost them when I kicked him out of my life.
Yes, it hurts. But if they were so easily turned against me, then clearly they don’t love me like I thought they did.
“Can you stop thinking so loud?”
“Oh, ha ha,” I say with a mock smile and turn up the radio. The song has shifted to something a bit more sad but still upbeat. I know he can’t actually read my thoughts, but I also know he wants to get to me.
I rebuilt myself from the ground up. It’s going to take a lot more than someone like Clifton to change that.
However, I don’t think I’ve learned to trust again. But I'm stronger now. I’m over my ex. I’m happy to live in the moment without dwelling on the past. “Everyone has bad things happen in their lives,” I say, reaching out to turn the radio down.
He turns the volume back up, louder than before in an obvious attempt to drown me out. I turn the radio off, annoyed at his behavior. He sighs and slumps back in his seat, his thumb coming back up to his lip as he stares out the window again. “I had bad things happen, but I don't let them hold me back or allow me an excuse to behave poorly.”
“Congratulations.” The word sounds genuine, but I don’t doubt he’s still brushing off what I’m saying.
“Your dad wants to talk to you when we get back, so I hope you have something to say.” Might as well give him a head’s up.
“Is it too late for you to take me home instead? Or just stop, I’ll call an Uber.” He reaches for the door handle and I reach over and pull his arm away from the door.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You owe him an explanation after everything he’s done for you.”
“I don’t owe anyone anything,” he says, rubbing both hands on his jeans as if to dry them off. Good, maybe if he’s nervous, his dad can actually get through to him.
He has the power to make his life what he wants it to be, just like everyone else. He just has to put in some effort. He needs to stop acting like a kid and take something seriously for once in his life.
Maybe I’ve got him all wrong.
But I don’t think I do. He needs to grow up and be accountable for his actions and how they hurt others - namely, his father.
“Look, I know you see him with rose-colored glasses, but he’s not your friend. He’s not anyone’s friend.” Clifton glances at me, his green eyes filled with an emotion I can’t place as we pull into the firm’s parking garage. I park the car and kill the engine before turning to face him once more.
“I know he’s not my friend. He’s my boss.” I lift a shoulder as Clifton’s dark, slashing eyebrows creep up his forehead. “And when he’s upset, my life is harder. When he’s happy, everything is smoother. So you directly affect my work life. Do better.”
With those words spit like poison, I open the door and stand up, making my way to the elevator without looking back.
Chapter Three
Clifton
As expected, the conversation with my father did not go well.
I managed to get out of there without saying anything I regretted, but now I slam the door of my building behind me and storm into the elevator, pressing the button for my penthouse.
I'd locked eyes with Emma when I left dad's office and once again, I wish she’d been his kid instead of me. That would make life so much easier. All I want is to be free of his expectations. I've had enough of him making demands on my life and time. He doesn't understand that I have my own dreams and ambitions. Of course, I hadn't really gotten mad until he brought mom into the conversation. Still, I’d managed to keep my cool.
The elevator reaches my floor and I step off, making my way to my front door. The security system unlocks my door automatically, and the towering black panel with a long silver handle swings open, inviting me in.
I step into the spacious space and inhale deeply. Every bit of effort and planning I've put into this place has been to help me stay calm and remind me of mom. The mostly white space is relaxing and bright, vivid green plants fill white planters scattered about, and the ambient lighting can fool my brain into thinking I’m in the light of day even when it’s dark like it is now.
How long had dad chewed me out? Four hours? Five? And still he hadn’t said anything I hadn’t heard before, save one detail.
He’d told me that this time, his help came at a cost.
