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“Fine, Spence. I have my answer. Get your stuff and get out.”
He hurried into the bedroom he’d been using. Flung his clothes into his duffel back without bothering to fold them. Hurried into the bathroom and swept his toiletries into his kit bag, then zipped it closed. Tossed it into the duffel on top of everything else.
He spotted the neatly folded pile of underwear on the bed. Things he must have left in Zoe’s room. He lifted the stack and set them in the duffel. Then zipped it closed and stepped into the living room. Zoe was standing in the kitchen.
When she spotted him, she yanked the refrigerator open, as if searching for something.
“Goodbye, Zoe,” he said, his voice stilted. Thick. “I… I enjoyed working with you and…”
She spun around, staring daggers at him. “You enjoyed working with me?” She sucked in a breath. “I told you I loved you. And that’s all you can say? You enjoyed working with me? Get the fuck out of my apartment, Flynn.”
She stared at him, her eyes stony, and he stared back for a long moment. He wanted to speak. To really talk to her. But as he struggled to find words, she held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear any more about what you enjoyed, Flynn. Just get the hell out.”
He turned without saying anything more and headed for the elevator. Moments later, he stepped inside and the doors whooshed closed behind him.
He dropped his duffel bag and leaned against the back wall. God. He’d really screwed up.
