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The cabby turns to look at me. “Where to miss?”
“Downtown. The Welton Inc. tower?”
God, I'm so fucking nervous that I don't remember the address properly.
The driver nods. “I know the building. Financial district? Between Congress Street and Post Office Square, right?”
It does seem correct, and I sigh in relief. "Yes, that's the one. Thank you."
No more drowning in despair in my PJs. I’m going to deal with this right now, and this time I'll be the one that will make him see what’s in front of him.
CHAPTER14
Devon
I’ve always been proud of the way I could handle pressure well in the past, no matter what life threw at me.
I never lose my composure. I'm always level-headed and rational about issues.
I sit down, I calmly think a situation over, and I make a mental list of all the things that don't go with the general picture, then I plan how to deal with them one by one until everything is exactly as it should be.
That’s how I got a company that was worth hundreds of millions and turned it into a worldwide business with a net worth in the billions.
There's no way in hell someone could fuck me over, and yet no matter how powerful, how ruthless I can be in my line of work, here I am, utterly terrified and incapable of thinking with a single shred of lucidity.
All of it because of one single, tiny woman that has been driving me insane in one way or another since the day I met her.
It took me five fucking years to get her to see past her preconceptions, and now after a blissful month spent being nearly inseparable, she comes up with the need to havethe talk.
I'm not stupid. I know what this means, and that's why I left. I couldn't let her tell me, not yet.
Now I’m the one who needs time and space.
I thought I was strong, but I am not when it comes to the love of my life. Time and space will help me build my armor against the pain that is sure to come so that when the first blow hits me, I'll be ready.
I force myself to look away from my iPhone as it beeps for the umpteenth time today.
My brain has been continuously playing the last four weeks over and over, trying to see where I went wrong about this.
Was I too pushy, too demanding?
Or is this about her and the way she feels —or more like,notfeels— about me?
She seemed so happy, so loving, but maybe I just saw what I wanted to see. Isn't it always like that when you're in love?
Damn the fucking idiot who wrote that it's better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all. He did not know what the fuck he was talking about.
The intercom buzzes, and my assistant starts to speak when I automatically reach for the button, but I can't hear a single word he says over the blood pounding at my temples.
What am I going to do?
How am I going to go back to how things were before?
How am I going to survive without her?
I can’t really begin giving myself any answers, even if I had some of them, because that’s when the doors to my office burst open, and here she is, standing in front of my desk, my assistant trailing behind her, an apologetic look on his face.
"Sorry, Mr. Welton, I—"
