AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Obviously, he doesn’t feel the same way. I hate the dull ache, the throbbing ache I feel every time my heart beats. I hate that I don't have an appetite or that life doesn't seem as exciting as it did before. I miss Clifton.
I miss our conversations and the easy laughter we shared together in this very office. The way he'd watch me with that slight smile on his lips. I miss eating meatball subs together and talking about flowers. I miss how much fun we had, how we’d put our heads together and work, how I could talk to him without feeling awkward, judged, or stupid.
I didn't stop caring about him just because he broke up with me, I'm just not sure how to care about him with the barriers he put in place. I wish I could just shut those emotions down, but they cling to every decision I make and sway my thoughts. I find myself wondering what Clifton would say about this case, or how he'd feel about the arguments I’d thought up. I wonder if he’d like the new coffee place I tried and love. I wonder if he’s also eating pistachio ice cream before bed every night, even though the treat tastes muted.
I just feel so awful about life in general. Taking a moment to jot a note on a page I realize I've lost the thought before I could even put pen to paper. Clifton and our relationship are top of mind and supersede everything else I try to think about.
I can't help but think I'm being stupid, letting my broken heart control me like this. If I was smart, I'd start moving forward, moving on with my life, knowing that he's not going to be in it.
But that's hard to do when I miss him. His smile, his laugh, his voice. The warmth of his embrace, the way he always made sure I ate lunch, his kindness and that ever-present sparkle in his eyes when he glanced my direction.
I had mistakenly thought he was falling for me. I drop the paperwork on my desk and glance out the window, trying to forget him and our time together. If I don't focus on this case, there’s no way I’ll win it. But at this point, I’m not even sure I’m cut out for this work anymore. Maybe I’m just sad over this loss, and I can only hope that time will fade this pain to a dull ache.
But right now, it’s impossible for me to focus. I plant both elbows on my desk and put my head in my hands. How do I just pretend to be okay? How do I fake my way through life, acting like nothing’s wrong and I’m not in agony inside?
I never should have let him get close. It was stupid of me to open up and give him everything he needed to hurt me. And I’m paying for that mistake now.
I blink back stinging tears and fold my arms on my desk, lowering my head as I try to keep from breaking down.
There’s a quick knock on the office door, but I don’t say anything. “You are here,” Melly says. “Are you okay?”
“I have a headache.” The lie pops out without any thought on my part.
She makes a concerned sound. “Hmm. I have some over the counter stuff that might help.”
“Thank you,” I say, “but I'm okay.”
“There’s no reason to suffer, hon,” Melly says.
Oh, there's absolutely reasons to suffer. “No, thanks,” I say, lifting my head and blinking at my computer screen. I flash a false smile in Melly's direction. “What can I do for you?”
She had to have a reason for coming into my office.
“I was just checking to see if you were here. Now I know,” she says with a smile before slipping out of the room and closing the door with a quiet click.
Why was she checking to see if I'm in here? Did Clifton send her in to check? And if he did, why?
I'm fed up with today and decide that I need to get out of here. It's time to go home so I can be alone. So I pack up my things with trembling hands, then leave my office, making a beeline for the elevator. I try to keep my head down, as if that'll discourage people, but repeatedly I'm asked how I'm doing.
I give superficial, easy answers with a smile I can only hope is convincing.
And when I finally make it into the elevator, down to the ground floor, I come face to face with security and know that I'm going to have to keep lying.
“I'll walk you out to your car,” Travis says. He’s a brick wall of a man and someone I trust to keep Sterling from approaching if he’s dumb enough to have waited by my car again.
“Thank you,” I say as he falls into step beside me.
“How was your day?” he asks.
I know he's just being polite, but I don't know that I have the energy for the small talk and banter. “It was fantastic. How was yours?” I manage to keep the lie going and he nods his head, rattling on about how time can’t pass quickly enough because he has some plans with his son this weekend.
“That’s nice,” I say as we walk up to my car. “I hope you both have an amazing time.” With that, I open my door and slip into my seat, somehow managing to keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks while he’s in sight. But once he's in the rearview mirror, twin tears roll down my cheeks.
I sniff softly as I drive, feeling silly for caring so much. The whole drive home, I feel like a zombie going through the motions. Maybe I should be grateful that I'm on autopilot, but I can’t quite manage that. When I finally park my car and get out, I make my way inside my building and take the elevator up to the top floor. I hurry toward my room, hoping Margret doesn't notice me.
Once I'm safely in my apartment. I close the door behind myself and scan the room. A ghost of him walks into my kitchen like the man had the morning after we spent an incredible night together, and I press the back of my hand to my mouth before hurrying to my room.
I can’t escape the memories of him, of our time together, or how he made me feel.
