Roman-1(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(161)

By the time I reach the office I am determined and resolute. This thing is over, done, and before this day is out I will be free of this constant ache I’ve been carrying around.

He’s not in his office when I peep inside, so I sit down and type out my resignation, effective immediately, and drop it onto his desk before grabbing my bag and walking out.

I know how cowardly this is, believe me, and I cringe to know what his reaction will be, but as I sit on the train home with nothing but a single dried up rose to show for my recent adventures, I know it’s the only option I have.

He’d never let me go any other way, and I need this. For myself and my life and whatever future I can have, I need to let go and move on before there’s nothing left but a shell.

He’ll hate me though, of this I am confident, because my threats in that letter are clear and leave him no room to move. I will tell Selena Jeffries and anyone I need to what we’ve been doing if he doesn’t let me go peacefully.

As far as I’m concerned, this is a good thing. I just wish my aching chest would get with the program.





Chapter Twenty One


“You can’t do this.”

Of course I can. I can do just about anything I want to right now, considering how crappy I’ve felt the last month.

“Chris, you know I love you, and that being my best friend gives you a lot more liberty into my life than anyone else, but give it a goddamned rest already.”

I’m scanning the classifieds and plotting the best detergent to scrub the toilet with as she hovers at my elbow, her red hair swirling when she twists in a circle before throwing her hands up with a growl.

“You can’t keep hiding out in here when you’re not going to that crappy job or getting Nana to her doctor’s appointment. Geez, Han, the last time I saw you go this mental…wait, scratch that, I’ve always known you were a little weird, but this…”

I know what she’s looking at, and I refrain from replying, not wanting the monumental argument that always ensues. She’s pissed at me for becoming a hermit in the month since I’d broken off the affair and left my job.

Okay, so I have to admit that despite being functional enough to find a receptionist job in a dentist’s office and looking after Nana, I’ve become slightly worse about my OCD control issues than I had previously been.

I know it’s weird and wrong and unhealthy, but at the moment, with my heart still feeling like bloody ground beef, all I want is to establish a bit of the control I’d lost with Greg.

To that end, I’ve deep cleaned the apartment — seven times — and rearranged the sofa — only four times — and, okay, maybe I’d gone Texas Chainsaw Massacre on the bathroom. In my defense, it wasn’t as white as I’d wanted it, and the bleach was doing me a disservice.

“Chris, I’ve been single for like two point five seconds here. Just give me a little breathing room, and when I feel up to it, I swear, I will start going out a little more,” I beg.

It’s hard getting over a man when he drives past your apartment every night and has some beefy, wrestler-looking type follow you everywhere.

It’s especially hard when he calls at bedtime to say goodnight and asks me to come back to work with every call.

I don’t answer the phone — home or cell — at night anymore because I’m still on that shaky ground where I know that if he coaxes just a little harder, I’ll give in and go running back for whatever scraps he’ll give me. Pathetic, but true.

Now I let the machine get it and jump in the shower so I don’t hear the messages he leaves. Nana, however, plays them back for me at the oddest times and glowers at me.

She, of course, doesn’t know why I left ‘dearest Gregory’ to begin with, so I forgive her the traitorous attitude and just try not to bleed too much when I hear his husky voice telling me I still have options.

A knock at the door brings me out of my thoughts, and I realize Chris has been standing there the whole time, waiting…a sly and altogether frightening smile curving her lips.

“You better get dressed, unless you want your date to see you in toilet-scrubbing gear. Oh, and I put your dress on the bed.”

“What! Chris—”

“Look, Han, I am not letting you off the hook here,” she says stonily, pointing at my bedroom as she waits at the door, her hand pausing on the knob. “Taylor is a really nice guy, and I’ve set up a date for you. He’ll take you to dinner and…just try to look like you’re still a live human.”

My heart is beating a mile a minute at the thought of going out with another man and talking to him, maybe laughing, when all I want is for Gregory to show up at my door with an apology and an assurance that he’s not getting married and maybe…possibly the engagement ring I’ve been dreaming of lately.