“Well you’re going to have to try,” I spat, “because looking at you makes me sick to my stomach.” I gave him one last look, choking down all the pain that threatened to drown me. “Goodbye Jason,” I whispered before walking around him and into my office.
Chapter Two
Jason left me alone, as did Amy. For the next few days, I went to work and returned home to a quiet, lonely apartment. I drowned in the silence and solitude, consumed by my obsessive thoughts about Jason. I obsessed over every word we’d exchanged, and the pain wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket.
“How’re you doing?” Candace asked one day at work. She’d invited me to join her at our favorite corner diner for lunch, and I’d refused again. I was rarely hungry. Jason had not only wrecked my heart, he’d also destroyed my appetite.
“I’m great.”
“You don’t look great,” she stated bluntly. “There aren’t many non-life-threatening illness situations where this is considered a bad thing anymore, but you’re losing weight, and your makeup is not hiding the circles under your eyes.”
“I’m fine, Candace.”
She pursed her lips. “There’s still room at my place if you want to stay for a few more days. We don’t mind the company.” She watched me shake my head and sighed. “Have you thought about seeing someone? You used to see a therapist. A few sessions might help you ride this out.”
I forced a laugh. “I’m fine, really. I mean, it’s sweet that you’re so concerned, but it’s just a little guy trouble. I’m not falling apart.”
I knew it was a lie as I said it, and Candace wasn’t fooled either. She gave me a look from beneath raised eyebrows then made an exasperated sound before leaving me alone.
When she had gone, I stared blankly at my computer screen and tried to remember what I’d been planning to type in the blank white page. The only word that kept coming to my mind was Jason’s name.
Stay.
Stay.
I can’t walk away from you.
I crumpled a sheet of notepaper and hurled it at the wall in frustration. I was tired of being haunted by a man I needed to hate. I was determined to banish him from my mind, from my heart, and from my thoughts, but no matter how much I tried, it just wasn’t happening.
The next day, I forced myself through a quick lunch at my desk, and just as I finished, my door opened. I looked up, expecting to see Candace on another one of her missions to find out how I was doing, but it was Erin Burnett, one of the managing editors.
She was a willowy woman with short red hair, piercing blue eyes, and a liking for black clothes. Today, she was wearing a soft-looking turtleneck and long black pants. She looked serious, stylish and totally out of place in my tiny office.
“Hi.” She gave me an open, friendly smile and came over to stand by my desk. I’d started out at JH Publishing as her assistant, so I knew she didn’t routinely ma
ke visits to junior editor’s desks. So, although her smile was meant to put me at ease, it only made me apprehensive.
“Hi, Erin.”
“Daphne.” She drew out my name, still smiling. “I just wanted to ask if maybe you needed some time off? I noticed you’re way ahead of your schedule, and you have been for a while.”
I frowned, wondering if Candace had said something to her. “I haven’t requested any vacation time,” I mumbled, suspicious.
“I know.” She smiled patiently. “I’m not sure how to say this, but your work this past week…” She paused. “Daphne, you’ve been attaching notes to the wrong manuscripts, copying the wrong addresses in your emails—you’re not as thorough as we’ve come to expect. I think we might be working you too hard.” She smiled again. “I think you need a vacation, and I’m sure Jon will feel the same way.”
I shook my head, mortified. The idea that she would inform Jon Hewes about mistakes I’d been making with my work made me burn with embarrassment. Not only had I become a lovesick fool, I had also become a fool unable to do the job I was paid for—all thanks to Jason.
“I…um…” My voice was weak with shame. “I’ll get back to you…on the vacation.”
“Soon,” she stated. It wasn’t a question.
“Soon,” I repeated woodenly.
I spent the rest of the day trying to rectify some of the errors I’d made in the previous days. By the time I finally got home, I was exhausted, and all I wanted was to crash into bed and sleep.
As I let myself in, I saw Amy seated on a barstool beside the kitchen island, her body hunched over. Her slight frame looked even smaller in an oversized sweater and black sweats. She saw me and attempted a smile.
I closed the door behind me, feeling all the pain and frustration of the past week welling up. I missed Amy. I missed her quirkiness and her sweet nature. I missed how she’d made me feel at home from the moment I moved into the apartment. I even missed Colin and the nickname only he called me.