I read the same paragraph three times.
I scroll down. Scroll back up and then try again.
The envelope sits on my desk, two inches from my hand. It’s calling to me.
But I’m not going to read it.
After another minute or two, I growl in frustration.
Fine, I’ll read it just so I can throw it away and get on with my day.
I pick up the envelope, slide my finger under the flap, and pull out the small white card.
It’s his handwriting. My heart picks up pace. I wish it wouldn’t.
I haven’t been able to eat pizza.
Miss you,
Ridge
I make a small noise that sounds too much like a sob for my liking.
The thing is, I haven’t been able to eat pizza, either.
I cover my mouth with my hand. Then I read the card again.
A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, completely against my will. Stupid. He’s being stupid. This is stupid. He thinks a card and a flower delivery will fix what he did?
It won’t.
I drop the card into the wastebasket and get back to work. There. That’s so much better.
My phone buzzes on my desk. I glance at the screen.
Carla:
Have you read it yet?
I stare at the message. Then I type back.
No. Go away. I’m busy.
The reply comes almost instantly.
Liar
I lock my phone and put it back face down. I am not engaging. I am not giving her the satisfaction.
I turn back to my computer.
The vendor contract is still open on the same paragraph as before. Right. I can do this. I start reading…
There’s a knock at the door.
I roll my eyes because I know it’s her before she even opens it.
“Go away.” I don’t look up.
