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“What the hell was that?” I hollered at her when we finished, left alone in the backstage area as the students cleared.
“I don’t know! You weren’t answering, and I felt bad—”
“Who asked you to feel bad for me? Do I look that pitiful to you?”
“Are you saying that dating me is pitiful?” she yelled back.
“Yes! Especially compared to who I actually was dating! Not only was she beautiful and classy, but also extremely intelligent. How do you compare to that?” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
She looked away from me, clamping her mouth shut for a moment before lifting her head and facing me. “I get it. I’m not worth a damn, but what about you? You apparently weren’t worth her love either. It must have been that extreme intelligence that made her run so quickly without looking back once,” she whispered, brushing past me on her way to the exit.
I’m an idiot. I had punched below the belt, and she had punched back.
Chapter Four
Defective Toys
Guinevere
“Gwen?”
Fingers snapped in my face. Blinking, I looked up at the small cup of tea in front of me.
“Thank you,” I whispered to Katrina’s secretary as she left.
Katrina sat at her desk, folding her hands over the papers.
Her office was, in a word, sleek, every surface either white or gray.
“Are you all right?” she asked, drawing my attention back to her.
“I’m fine, I just spent the morning talking to college students about how awesome it is to be me.” I forced a laugh, which sounded a lot more pitiful than I'd hoped.
“Maybe this will make your day just a little bit better.” She slid the document over to me. “All we need is your signature, and you will be released from your contract. They agreed to all of our terms and even gave you a bigger severance… Why don’t you look happy?”
I hadn’t realized I'd stopped breathing until she spoke to me directly. Taking a deep breath, I placed the cup on her desk and grabbed a pen. “All I need to do is sign this, right?” I asked, reading it over.
“Yes, they’ve already signed.” When she said they, she meant him.
I stabbed the pen right in the middle of the paper before dragging it down, ripping it until the end.
“What are you doing?”
“Did I do anything wrong?” I asked her.
“What?”
“Did I do anything wrong? I don't think so. So why am I the one running? Why do I feel like the other woman, being paid off, told to keep her mouth shut, to accept the money and disappear?”
“Gwen—”
“How much longer do I have on my contract?”
“Five months, but Gwen—”
“I will work until it’s over, and only then will I leave. So call him up and tell him I will be awaiting the next project.” I rose, grabbing my things.
“Gwen! Stop for a second.” Katrina walked in front of me. “I understand what you are saying, I really do, but you shouldn’t let yourself go though that kind of emotional abuse for the sake of your pride. There is nothing wrong with closing the book on him and all of this. It’s not running.”
