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NADIA
When I walked into that bar yesterday, I should have stuck to the original plan.
I should have looked Liam in the eyes, thanked him for his many years of employment and handed him my resignation letter. I should have stuck to the original plan.
Instead, I chickened out. And I took one last shot. One last shot at negotiating with Liam to save Harry from being traded across the country and moved away from his family. One last shot to save the job I love so much. One last shot to have it all.
And in taking that last shot, I epically fumbled everything. In one foolish moment, I lost everything I love.
Harry didn’t come home to me last night. He didn’t go to his house, either. I spent hours calling and texting and praying to hear word from him. I got no response and I have no idea where he is right now.
Eventually, I gave up and came to the office to face down the other dragon in my life.
It’s almost twenty-four hours after the whole mêlée. Liam sits across from me behind his desk, fingers steepled, jaw ticking as he waits for me to start talking.
I nervously run my tongue across my bottom lip. “So, Harry accompanied me to the Children’s Charity Gala, as you know,” I begin slowly.
In my brain, I’m picking and choosing which embarrassing details of this shit salad to offer up to my soon-to-be ex-boss. After the scene that unfolded at the Snow Moon last night, I’m attempting to salvage any shards of dignity I have left. If there are any.
“Go on,” Liam prods me, his impatience leaking through the indifferent facade he’s trying to uphold.
My throat is so dry it hurts. I swallow thickly and continue. “Through a series of events, Harry and I ended up at a bar and…” I swallow again, staring down at my hands. “Beverages were consumed.” God, this is painful.
“Alcoholic beverages.”
“Right.” I nod. “We weren’t thinking straight. And we ended up at a chapel.”
“And you got married,” Liam hurries my rambling story along.
“Right.” I dare to peek up at him and the level of discontent I see there is enough to make me shudder.
I’m disappointed in myself, too. Not because I married Harry. No, by this point, I’m convinced that that part was fate. He and I weresupposedto come together. He was a gift that my guardian angels were determined to work into my life by any means necessary. Despite my stubborn resistance.
What disappoints me is how poorly I handled the situation. I knew every step of the way that I was making things worse by avoiding this inevitable conversation with Liam. I knew that by delaying it, I’d only compound my problems. Yet I chose to hide when I should have stood boldly in my love for Harry.
Now, here we are. The man I love—the sweetest and most genuine man in the world—now hates me. And I’m forced to give up the job I was trying so desperately to keep.
Liam is quiet for a long while, weighing the situation. When he finally speaks, he tries to suppress his anger. “And it didn’t occur to you that you had an ethical obligation to report that conflict of interest to me? Immediately.”
I shake my head ruefully. “I failed in quite a few of my obligations,” I admit, mortified. “My obligations as a lawyer, and maybe more importantly, my obligations as a wife.”
When I say that, Liam’s eyebrows pinch together. “You…you love this guy?” He sounds surprised.
I close my eyes against the tears that come flooding in. “I really do. I’ve never met anyone like him. He has the biggest heart and the kindest spirit. He loves in a way that’s pure, with his heart wide open. And I let him down in the worst way.” Sniffling, I twist the tissue in my hand into a messy knot. “And I should have done what I had to do to protect my marriage. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. But I’m a fixer. I thought I’d find a way to fix the situation. So I could have both—Harryandmy job. Instead, I made a big mess and ended up compromising everything that matters to me.” I look Liam in the eyes when I say, “I’m truly sorry.”
He watches me, conflict on his face as I pull the envelope from my purse and rise from my seat. It’s not so crisp and white anymore. It’s crinkled and blotted from the snow and stained with my makeup. I stretch it out to Liam.
He eyes it warily. “What is that?” he asks me.
“It’s my two weeks’ notice.”
His stare blazes on the envelope I’m holding out to him. He looks like he’ll argue with me. He looks like he’ll snatch it out of my hands and rip it to shreds.
I’m praying that he won’t. I just want him to accept my resignation, report my infractions to the bar association and put me out of my misery.
Thankfully, he eventually reaches forward and takes the envelop from my hand. Then he drops back into his seat with a thud, wordlessly staring at the envelope in his hands.
I turn and walk away, my head hung as I trudge through the dark hallways of the office suite.
