Page 93 of Apparently, I’m Torture

I pushed my hands into my pockets and scowled. Even though I wasn’t his direct target, I was hit nonetheless. But I wasn’t the important one here.

“I can’t let Lilly lose her job, Stace. I can’t let her be blamed for this.”

Her eyes danced across my face. “What’re you going to do?”

“I’m taking the fall for this. I’m going to tell the department that it was my mistake, that I signed off on the invoice, and that Lilly was trying to protect me so I wouldn’t lose the initiative.”

“But,” Stacey burst. “If you do that, you’ll lose your job.”

I shrugged. “I’d rather lose that than lose Lilly a second time.”

I turned toward the door as Stacey called out, “Shawn, that’s crazy. You have to think this through.”

I made it to the doorframe, turned back to her, and said, “It’s alright, your secret’s safe. But your cousin isn’t. I’ll find a way to take care of that video, too.”

I was prepared to lose my job and my career for Lilly, but if I was going to lose everything I’d worked for, I’d make sure I took Trevor down with me.

Chapter 34

Lilly

Monday Afternoon

Lilly’s Apartment

The day I was fired, I didn’t say much to Shawn. Not really. Mia was so mad, I wound up having to restrain her until she flipped the script and dragged me out of there.

I think I kept my mouth shut because, despite how I felt, my first instinct was to respond to Mia’s needs. It wasn’t until I was alone, yelling at Trevor on the phone, that I realized I’d just left without saying anything.

So, that day passed. Then another came and went.

Then Shawn sent me a single text.

S: I’m going to fix this.

But I heard nothing from him since then. Where was he?

Was this his way of distancing himself from me again?

And if it was, could I blame him?

Switching off my phone, I swallowed a melatonin tablet and fell asleep.

Another day dawned. I laid in bed and stared at my ceiling.

What could I do now?

My career was in tatters. I had no way to prove I didn’t do all the things Trevor framed me for. But beyond that, I also had no idea where I stood with Shawn.

Shawn said he loved me, and I wanted to believe that was true. But it’s been days since I was let go, and he hasn’t called, hasn’t texted a second time, hasn’t anything. I had no idea what to do about him, or my job, and it was maddening.

My brain created this swirling pattern of memories, all chopped up and taped back together, and I analyzed each and every moment I had with Shawn over the past six weeks.

It wasn’t long until pangs of mortification tainted each thought, and my chest felt so tight, I had to force myself to stop, chant, sing and take in a lungful of air.

I knew it was my anxiety that made me feel like this, but after so many years of assuming Shawn hated me, it was easy to believe that his absence meant he was done.

Heavy, miserable, knotted up and sore, I shifted and groaned. Hunger pains were starting to kick my ass, and I was tired of feeling sorry for myself.