Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
My heart sinks. “Different how?” I remember the library, how Ro pointed out how much of a bad influence I am. I know it. I’ve always been that person. Someone who brings people lower.
As the older man looks at me, his lips thin into a straight line.
“Different like he cared more about something other than work. Other than his reputation.”
I swallow the emotions that threaten to spill from my lips. Every single word is kept from coming out.
He doesn’t care about me.
I don’t say it.
I can’t bring myself to refute it because it’s so very obvious I wish it were true.
I shift my weight as the clock ticks and ticks time away.
“Has he quit?”
“No,” he answers but doesn’t elaborate.
“Has he been fired?” I ask, and I hope not.
“Why would that happen, Miss Chambers?”
It feels like a trap, and I glance toward the closed door.
“Would you tell me the truth if I asked?” he asks me, and I don’t know why I say it. Maybe I just need someone to hear it and tell me they believe me. I don’t know … but I say it anyway.
“I really loved him, and that’s the truth.”
“Loved?” he questions, then waves it off as if it doesn’t matter. “He submitted a resignation, but I have yet to present it to the board. I don’t know what to do with it.”
“He resigned?” I can’t believe that. “You’re lying,” I accuse.
“I’m not, Miss Chambers. He sent me and only me his resignation as well as a number of other interesting pieces of information.”
I wait in silence.
He’s taunting me and knows things I don’t.
For a second, I contemplate messaging Ro to ask him what the hell is going on.
“What do you think I should do with it?” Mr. Michaels asks me.
“Burn it,” I answer without thinking.
His thin lips perk up into a sad smile. “I’m not in the habit of lighting my computer on fire, young lady.”
My cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“But I could certainly hit delete… although someone else may want to read it as well.”
He looks at me once again like he’s debating something. He’s unsure of what to do, and that would make two of us.
“Have you spoken to him?” he asks.
“No,” I answer, and he nods in understanding.
With a deep inhale, he says, “I didn’t think you had.”
“There was a lot in the email he sent me, Miss Chambers, including information about your father. In order for me to act on it, I would have to disclose everything. I’m torn on the matter.”
I part my lips to say something in defense of him, but I’m left with more questions than anything else.
“I think you should speak to your fiancé,” he says. I almost correct him, but I don’t.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish he still was.
“I thought as much,” he says in my silence.
“Thought what?”
“That you love him the way he loves you,” he says so definitely. As if he knows when he knows nothing.
“He doesn’t love me,” I whisper, and I hate every word because the truth hurts more than all the lies I could scream. “We’re not together anymore,” I confess.
“You should talk to him,” he suggests, slipping his glasses off and folding them.
“You don’t understand,” I tell him.
“I understand more than you think,” he says easily and glances at his watch. “I have to go now, Brooklyn. I wish you well. Please speak to him before Monday. We have the weekend to decide how to handle this, and it would be helpful if Ronan was levelheaded by then.”
“I’m sure the breakup isn’t as bad as you think,” I tell him.
“It’s far more than that, and I shouldn’t be the one to tell you.”
“I’m not ready to talk to him,” I say honestly.
I hope he can understand that much.
Ro destroyed me.
He toyed with my heart and then left it to wilt.
Johnathan doesn’t say anything at all. He merely clicks on his laptop before picking up his briefcase and leaving the computer where it sits on the long table at the front of the room.
“I have to go now, and if anyone should look at my computer screen to see the email that was sent, I would have no idea. If someone were to delete it, again…” He shrugs. “Who would know? Surely not me.”
“What?” I question, mostly in disbelief.
“Please be well, Miss Chambers. And if you need me, I will be here for you. I’m so very sorry.”
His condolences are hard for me to accept, so I say nothing. I watch him leave, not quite trusting him and in slight disbelief.
Did he really resign? And what else did he send?
The door clicks shut, and the clock ticks once, then twice. It doesn’t make it to three by the time I move to the computer. Before I can think straight, I read it all.