She opened the door, but a burst of air and loud thunks against the hard wood floor distracted her. The door slammed with the force of Lance's impact as he smashed his body against it.
He could run? What a complete idiot she'd been. What are terrible freaking leech he was.
"Rachie, don't leave me. I don't remember what life is like without you. We're so good together. You and me, baby. College sweethearts. Don't do this." He grabbed her elbows and tried to pull her in for a kiss, but it was awkward and angular. They were too out of practice to start now, even if he hadn't just been caught banging the help.
She stepped from his embrace, her skin crawling where he’d touched her, "Let me remind you what it's like, then. You're going to work. You're going to take care of yourself. And you can screw all the nurses you want, though it probably won't be free of charge anymore."
She pushed past him, not listening to his shouts as she got to her car and then started the engine. The only yell she did catch was, "You were the one who wanted to get married, anyway. I don't need you!" as her car pulled out onto the street.
Maybe he didn't need her. Really, that was good news. The best news she’d gotten in a long time. But the best part, the most important part, was that she didn't need him either.
Sort of…
She thought about her mother, trying her best to frown through the Botox that kept her face so perfectly disinterested. Her father, detailing every call to the wedding vendors while showing her check after voided check for her wedding expenses. All the while, they’d be saying how they should have seen it coming. That flighty Rachael would never actually get married…
Now wasn’t the time to worry about the fall out, now was supposed to be a time for celebration. For freedom. She focused on the road signs, trying her best to push past her self-doubt, and discovered herself driving to work.
Figures.
It was always where she ended up, especially when she'd been forced to sponge bathe Lance or help him with something she now realized he was perfectly capable of doing. It had probably been his idea of a hilarious inside joke. The prick.
She turned into the lot and then parked in her usual spot, thankful that the place had already halfway cleared out for the day. With any luck, she’d be able to throw herself into her latest project and forget that her life was falling to crap around her ears.
After stalking across the lot, through the wide, glass doors, and then riding the elevator, she hustled to her office in the far corner of the top floor. It was a nice spot for someone so new to the company and it didn't hurt that she really believed in the business, either. Organic Chemistry was set to be a game changer for a lot of people—it was the first dating company to use scientific data in conjunction with personality matching in order to help people find love.
She served as the head of research development, examining the data pulled from the head scientist a co-owner and his team of researchers. Working closely with the foundations of what made a relationship work. Sort of ironic, considering her own situation.
She plopped onto her leather couch and dreamt of oblivion. But then she kicked her legs onto her bulky, worn coffee table, and found notes from her secretary staring back up at her.
With a sigh, she sat up and took the letters in hand. Phone messages. The first, from her sister, Eliza, who needed advise on how to handle their mother. The second from her mother, asking again if it would be inappropriate to wear white to the wedding and when she would finally get to meet Lance.
In response, she crumpled the messages into tiny balls and then tossed them at the can behind her desk. She'd deal with her family and the wedding, but for right now it was time to enjoy her freedom. She'd gotten rid of the noose around her neck. The anger and stress of the afternoon faded away and a kernel of joy hatched in her belly. She was free.
And that solid five seconds of enjoyment was pretty awesome. But it wasn't enough to stave off the panic that was quickly setting in.
She was relieved to be rid of Lance, definitely, even if the way things went down were a little less than flattering to her ego.
Whatever. No point in getting mad again. That was all in the past.
Still, the wedding loomed overhead, way too present to be shoved away as easily as Lance had been.
She couldn't call it off. Her father had spent a fortune on it, not that it was even a drop in the bucket of his wealth. And her mother… She stared at the crinkled message, laying inches from the trashcan, and considered getting up to kick it. She couldn’t begin to fathom the emotional warfare her mother would wreak if the wedding was canceled.
The damn thing was only a month away. People had made plans. Gifts had been sent. Hotel rooms had been booked. For all intents and purposes, it would be better to get married and then divorced. Then, at least, she could say she’d tried.