“If you don’t want to show me here, then fine, show me somewhere else,” he continues, but I can’t do that. I can’t show him what Danny did to me. I can’t let him see that his son is a little out of control right now. And not only that, but what if he doesn’t believe me? And why do I even care?
I don’t want to answer that, so instead, I say, “I think we’re better off just sticking to work topics rather than personal issues. My job is important, and if we have to work together for a few projects, then fine, but it won’t change anything. It won’t change the fact that you hurt me, Caleb, and that is something I simply cannot forgive.”
And with that, I get up and leave my office, not waiting for him to answer as I make my way to the stairwell. I need some air, and I need to get away from him.
ChapterEleven
Caleb
“It won’t change the fact that you hurt me, Caleb, and that is something I simply cannot forgive.”
I sit in her office, stunned for a few moments. I don’t even try to stop her as she leaves.
I know I hurt her, I saw it written all over her face and heard it in her voice the day she walked out of my apartment…
“Don’t do this to us, Caleb,” she pleads, but I refuse to look her in the eyes.
“Just go, Cam.” I’m pathetic. A coward.
“We’re good together, you know we are. In what universe does it make sense for this to end?” she says, her hands gesturing between us.
“It’s just how it has to be.” I have no better answer.
“Bullshit,” she retorts.
“You’re not going to change my mind, Cam, so I think it’s best if you just leave.” I have to be harsh. I have to stand firm. If I don’t, I’ll end up grovelling on my knees and begging her to forgive me and stay. I can’t do that to her. I won’t do that to her. And I’m certainly not going to let people judge her for being with me, which they will.
“If I walk out that door, that’s it, there is no going back,” she says, her voice breaking on the last few words.
I still don’t look at her as I hang my head and say the only two words that I can. “I’m sorry.”
The pain I experienced that day is like nothing I’ve felt before. It was like I was being torn in half, my heart being shredded in the process. I loved her, really truly loved her, and I let her go. I thought I was doing the right thing back then, but it’s clear that I majorly fucked up, and just maybe, there is no way to ever make up for that. But I have to try. I have to make her see that I was a fool and that I was worried about what people would think of her for choosing me. I mean, it would have been like a cliché romance… older guy who wears a suit and works in an office in a highly paid job, and younger woman who they would assume was after me for my money. I’m not poor by any means, and I’m not rich either, but people can be cruel and they judge way too fucking quick. And back then, I couldn’t get that out of my head, especially when people at work began to talk because we’d been seen out and about together by some of them…
“Fucking gold-digger.”
“Ugh, how tacky.”
“She needs to find someone her own age.”
“She’s the same age as his son, for goodness’ sake.”
And there were plenty more snipes in her direction. They didn’t judge me, they judged her, and I lost my job when I saw red and nearly knocked out my old boss’ son. Yeah, not a good thing to do, but when it came to her, I had a switch, and once that switch was flipped, there was no stopping me. Three co-workers held me back from making things a hell of a lot worse, and then I left and went back to the apartment, and I broke up with her. I let the pathetic ramblings of bitchy women and jealous men ruin the one chance I had at being happy and being with the only woman who I have ever loved.
I know she’s with my son now, but fuck, I need that to stop. Like, I really need that to stop. I know it’s selfish of me, but the thought of them… nope, not going there. I can’t even think about it, and I know that being this close to her is a bad idea, but now that I am, I can’t stop. And then I’m up on my feet and going to find her.
I make my way out of her office and through the reception area, smiling as I go so people don’t think there is anything wrong. There are a few people waiting for the lift, so I opt to use the stairwell. I have no idea if this is the way she came because my chair was facing the other way in her office, but I’ll go and grab us some coffee to make it look like I was running an errand.
I start to make my way down the stairs, when the sound of heels clicking below has my ears perking up. I peer over the banister, and there she is, a few flights of stairs below me. I quietly but quickly start to descend, and I’m aware I’m entering stalker status, but there is something wrong and I just need to know that she is okay—besides me showing up and ultimately turning her world upside down, of course.
She doesn’t hear me as I successfully go undetected and come to the flight of stairs that she is making her way down. I don’t want to scare the shit out of her, so I say her name as I make my way to her. She turns around with a shocked expression, and I see she’s about to move faster, but I throw my hand out and circle my fingers around her arm, gently. She goes to pull out of my grasp, but I don’t let go quick enough and she cries out as my fingers graze her wrist—the one I know is fucking bruised.
“Shit,” I say as I let her go as if she’s on fire. I see her back up to the wall and she clamps her lips together as she brings her other hand to her wrist and holds it. I stand a few feet away from her with nothing but concern and worry.
“Please, Cameron, let me see,” I whisper, and even I can hear the pleading in my voice. Her eyes fill with tears, and she bites her bottom lip to try and stop it from quivering. Seconds tick by, but then she slowly slides the sleeve of her shirt up and I see the marks on her. And fucking hell does my blood boil. There is no mistaking that those are finger marks. Someone did this to her. Someone hurt her. Someone put their hands on her, and my first thought is one I shouldn’t ever be thinking.
“Who did this?” I say as I move closer and place my hand on her elbow as I inspect the marks more closely.
“I can’t…”