Heart lurching, I spin on my heel.
While I still can’t place this woman, she apparently knows me.
She offers me a pitying smile that makes my hackles rise. I may be shit at reading emotions most of the time, but I’m all too familiar with the classic sympathetic smile.
You’re just not cut out for this.
You ask too many questions.
Can’t you just suck it up and deal with it like a normal person?
Why do you have to make a big deal of everything?
“For what it’s worth,” she says, cutting off the intrusive thoughts pummeling me. “I’m sorry.”
Cool. Not only am I exhausted and caught unawares, but now I get to play a guessing game.
“For what?” I sniffle, holding back the tears of exhaustion threatening to spill down my cheeks. I sound rude, but I can’t help it. The past few days have been horrendous. I’m using every sliver of my remaining bandwidth to keep myself from collapsing into a heap.
“For Alaric,” she whispers.
My battered and broken heart pangs. Alaric?
Why the hell is she apologizing on his behalf?
“Look, I’m sure this feels awful, but it’s for the best. Truly. I’ve known Ric a long time. I’ve never seen him so distracted or so tempted to throw away everything he’s worked for.”
I nearly stumble back in shock. She knows about Alaric and me?
“He… how…?”
I can’t string together a coherent sentence. It’s humiliating, adding insult to injury. I don’t want to be standing in this hallway, under the hellacious fluorescent lights I can practically hear. I don’t want anyone to know I’m heartsick and devastated, let alone a random stranger doling out pity smiles.
“Nothing about this is easy for him. He put up a hell of a fight. But ultimately, I made him see reason: he has to put the team first. That’s who he is. This is his life.”
He put up a fight?
My stomach twists. Surely I’m not understanding her.
“Wait. I’m sorry. Can you… I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation. Can you explain yourself, please?”
She arches a brow. “Alaric broke up with you, yes?”
It hurts to hear the words spoken out loud, but I nod.
“Since I’m the one who made him see reason, I feel partially responsible. I thought I’d extend an apology. I don’t want it to be awkward for us around the paddock.”
This woman told Alaric to break up with me?
“And who are you again?”
She breaks into an unamused scowl. “Leslie Oswald, director of operations for Granata. Ric’s second-in-command?”
Several awkward seconds tick by. I’m not sure what this woman expects me to say. Even if I was running on all cylinders and could process all she’s telling me, I’m not particularly inclined to give her the satisfaction of a response. She just admitted to convincing the man I love to break up with me. It seems ridiculous, really, but I can’t focus on that now. Because my brain is clinging to one part of this scenario only.
Alaric didn’t want to break up with me.
“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to respond right now,” I admit. “But so I fully understand, you’re saying you told Alaric to break up with me?”
