Grumpy Romance: Chapter 19

KENYA

I hoped it was the wind that closed the door. Or maybe a broken hinge. Or hell, I’d even accept a ghost sneaking around and playing tricks on us.

But my hopes are dashed the moment I step into work the next morning.

Whispers rage like wildfire. Curious eyes. Angry eyes. Jealous eyes. They’re all aimed at me.

My fingers dig and twist into my purse.

Just be normal.

Easier said than done when my co-workers are staring me down like the town leper. How much longer to my office?

Sweat beads on my forehead when I notice how much farther I have to go. More and more people gather in the hallway. There’s no relief from the heat of their whispers and hushed judgement.

Can I apply for a sick day? Or maybe work from home?

No, I can’t run away like a coward.

I didn’t do anything wrong.

Heather stomps down the hallway, her posse trailing behind her. And I know my awkward entrance is about to get a lot worse.

She stops in front of me and gives me a cruel smile. “Someone dressed up today.”

I glance at my outfit. One of the first things I bought with my paycheck was appropriate office attire. However, I wasn’t about to sacrifice my femininity to conform to black suits and ties.

Today, I’m wearing an A-line dress with a flirty skirt. I know I look good and, if the compliment had come from anyone other than Regina George’s less charismatic sister, I would have responded with a smile and a thank you.

But since it is Heather in front of me, I don’t bother responding. Lifting my chin, I stalk past her.

“The skirt really shows off your legs,” Heather continues.

I stop, hearing the taunting in her tone.

“Makes sense… since you need those thighs to find job opportunities. A skirt gives a man easier access, right?”

I whirl around. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing.” She sings.

My jaw works, and I struggle with the urge to slap her.

Heather slants me a victorious grin and sashays down the hallway.

When she leaves, the whispers start up again, louder than before. Everyone is watching me like they’re waiting for me to break out in a song and dance.

I want to duck my head, but I force myself not to cower. The situation is bleak. Acting like I’m guilty will only make the vitriol worse.

When I get into my office, I find Alistair there already.

My eyes bug and I slam the door shut. “What are you doing here?” Frantically, I glance at the hallway where folks are poking their heads around the corner to see through the blinds. “People are staring.”

“Ezekiel informed me of the rumors.” He rises to his full height, all delicious muscles and manly concern. “Are you okay?”

I step back. “You shouldn’t be in here, Alistair.”

“Where else would I be in a situation like this?”

“Far away from me!” I hiss.

“They’ll talk either way.”

“And you’re just feeding the gossip mills.”

“Since the issue is like this already,” he tilts his head, looking intently at me, “we should make an official announcement.”

“No.”

His eyebrows hunker down.

I run a hand over my face. “We’re at work. Let’s not talk about this right now.”

His eyes turn stormy. “I disagree.”

“Of course you do.” I throw up my hands. It would be raining cats and dogs before he ever made things easy for me.

“Miss Jones,” his tone is frosty, reminding me of when I first started to work for him, “I’ll do what you want this time, but I need you to be open to changing that plan. I can take people saying what they want about me, but I cannot abide by anyone badmouthing you.” His voice lowers. “If I hear that you’re being harassed, I will not stay still.”

“I’m fine. Really. I’m okay. I just want this to blow over.” Nodding to him, I add, “And you being in here will keep that from happening.”

He squints at me. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m very sure.” I walk closer to him. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

He nods, still looking at me like he wants to cart me over his shoulder and steal me away from the building.

I hold his stare, silently begging him not to do so.

There’s something on the tip of his tongue, but he keeps it to himself. A rarity. “Okay.”

When Alistair’s gone, I place my hand on the desk and wilt against it. It would be a mistake to check the office group chat, so I don’t bother. I’m not going to bathe myself in negativity today.

Just breathe, Kenya. The hatred flocking to me is new. I’ve been a good girl all my life, quietly working, taking care of my family, and trying to help Sasha in any way I could.

There was no time for parties, wild underage drinking, or reckless abandon. When someone in the family is sick, everyone is sick. Not physically maybe, but in all the ways that count, I was living at the hospital too.

After Sasha got better, I was finally ready to venture into the world and make my own mark. To be seen for my own talents and capabilities.

I’ve been building myself into the kind of woman who can face the world proudly. I’m not afraid of being noticed, but I want to be noticed for the right reasons. For my talent. My skill. My persistence.

I don’t want mud.

I don’t want a sullied reputation.

After a few deep breaths, I collect myself enough to lean off the desk and open my door. If people want to talk about me, they’re going to have to do it to my face.

There.

Open and transparent.

Ezekiel hustles in a few minutes later with a cup of coffee. He sets it on my desk and I’m too distressed to pick it up.

With a worried frown, he leans closer. “Alistair is trying to find the source of the rumors, but it’s taking a bit of time.”

“Why bother? This thing is already a wildfire. It doesn’t matter who started it. As long as we don’t feed the flames, it’ll putter out eventually.”

“I don’t know, Miss Jones. This isn’t some groundless rumor. There was a picture taken…”

“What?” My eyes widen. “Show me.”

He turns his phone around to reveal a picture of me and Alistair. My fingers are twisted in his hair and his body is practically bending me over the stairway railing. We look like we’re seconds away from tearing each other’s clothes off.

My breath leaves my body. “I can’t believe this.”

“That’s why we’re scrambling to find the source. We want to scrub it. Keep it contained to this building.”

I sink into my chair and press a hand to my forehead. “Oh my gosh.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Jones. Alistair will stop at nothing to get this handled.”

“It’s too late for that.” My eyes dart back and forth.

Ezekiel worriedly slides the coffee over to me. “First, you need to drink this.”

My fingers tremble when they slip through the handle of the mug. I can’t bring it to my lips. My mind is tripping on that picture. Everyone knows. There’s no way to out this fire now.

“There’s another thing.” Ezekiel’s eyes dart away. “Alistair wants you out of the office today.”

“What? No! I have too much to do.”

“There’s another Belle’s Beauty location that needs overhauling. He wants you to work on it the same way you worked on the Yazmite project.”

“He’s kicking me out?”

“He wants you away from the heat.” Ezekiel frowns. “I think he also wants to keep himself from firing employees without proper cause. He has a temper, but it’s nothing compared to the ruthlessness that emerges when his people are targeted.”

“Let me talk to him.”

“I wouldn’t advise that, Miss Jones.” He steps in my way. “Alistair mentioned that you didn’t want to be seen with him at the office. That’s one of the reasons he made these arrangements.”

“I can take care of myself. I don’t need him ordering me out.”

“Miss Jones.” He holds his ground. “Bernard will take you.”

It seems like I’ll either leave or be escorted out, so I gather my things and flee beneath the watchful stare of my co-workers.

Ezekiel escorts me the entire way and it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that was an instruction from Alistair.

When I’m in the car, Bernard slants me a reassuring smile. “Miss Jones.”

“Hey.”

“Are you okay?”

“You know about the pictures?”

“I do.” He shakes his head. “I hope you don’t let those comments get to you. People are making up wild stories.”

“I can imagine.”

“We know the truth. I believe everyone will see it too.”

“Thanks, Bernard.”

He drives the rest of the way in silence.

When I arrive at the new location, I stuff my worries deep inside. Work is work. Though I don’t like Alistair’s pushy methods, I’m grateful for a change of scenery. The office was getting claustrophobic and this is the perfect excuse to ‘run away’ without it actually looking like a retreat.

I step confidently into the elegant store and introduce myself to everyone.

Their eyes regard me with distaste.

Unease crawls through my stomach. I force my tone to remain upbeat. “Let’s have a meeting with the managers in five minutes. Uh, where’s the bathroom?”

“That way,” one of the managers says snootily.

I shuffle past them. Inside the bathroom, I reapply my makeup and do a few breathing exercises. The managers at the Yazmite location were rude when we first met too. I won them over. I can do the same here.

A few minutes later, I walk toward the meeting room. The managers’ voices carry over to me.

“Is she the one in the pictures?”

“Yes. You can tell by the crazy hair.”

“She thinks she has the right to boss us around because she’s the CEO’s slut?”

“I can’t believe some people get away with all kinds of things while the rest of us have to suffer.”

“I’m not listening to a word she says. What does she know except how to seduce a rich man?”

“I can’t believe they sent her here.”

“What’ll happen to the company now?”

“What do you mean?”

“If women find out the CEO of Belle’s Beauty is a creep, they’re going to cancel him. If they cancel him, they’re going to boycott the products. You think the company will go bankrupt?”

My eyelashes flutter. Bankrupt?

Claire’s legacy. Belle’s birthright. What if it all goes up in flames because of me?

Panic grabs me by the throat, but I don’t have time to fall apart. Alistair is at the office, fighting to make sense of the chaos. If I fall apart, I don’t deserve to stand beside him.

Although it kills me to drag a smile from the depths of my pain, I slap it on my face and walk in.

Brightly, I greet the managers. “Thanks for waiting.”

They regard me in stony silence.

My confidence wanes. I think about their bleak predictions. What if the company goes bankrupt?

A lump forms in my throat.

Maybe… this scandal will be a bigger problem than I thought.

Bernard is outside when I leave the location. I’m surprised to see him, but he just offers me a smile and a coffee. When he opens the door, he gestures inside.

I remain in place. “Alistair shouldn’t be this worried. I’m fine.”

“I’m here on Mr. Alistair’s request, but the coffee is from me. You look like you could use it.”

I didn’t drink Ezekiel’s coffee this morning and I don’t touch Bernard’s offering either. My hands are already jittery. I don’t want caffeine in this state. Not when the buzz of my discomfort is already so strong.

“Where are we going?” My eyes slide over the landmarks that lead to the factory. “Not back to the office?”

“No, Mr. Alistair’s instructions were clear.”

I blow out an annoyed breath.

Pulling up my phone, I text Alistair.

Kenya: Do you plan to keep me out of the office for the rest of the year?

Holland: If that’s what it takes.

Kenya: I appreciate your concern, but I’ll have to face it sooner or later.

Holland: Then choose later. Let me sort out what I can first.

I rub my temples as a headache brews. The comments from the managers stuck to my skin and dug deep. I should have been more careful. If I wasn’t so eager to spend time with Alistair, we wouldn’t have been caught.

My eyes sweep closed and I try to find a solution. What if I come out and tell everyone that’s not me in the picture?

It’ll save you, but Alistair will still look like a woman-grabbing jerk.

I frown. What if I tell everyone we’re dating?

And then all the work you’ve done will get dismissed as girlfriend privilege and no one will respect you again.

My fingers ball into fists. I have to do something. Belle’s Beauty cannot, under any circumstances, be affected by this.

I’m just as invested in Belle’s future as Alistair. His daughter is a sweet girl and we have a lot in common. Losing my mother at such a tender age blew a hole through my heart. To this day, I treasure everything my mother left behind. Her jewelry. Her pictures. Even her high school yearbook.

Belle deserves to have what her mother left behind. The company. An untarnished gift.

Just then, my phone chirps with an email notification. I expect Alistair’s name in the ‘from’ line, but it’s not him.

To: Kenya Jones

From: Steven Sutherburg

Subject: Baby Box Job Offer

————-

Greetings Miss Jones,

As we prepare for the first Baby Box launch featuring Belle’s Beauty products, we’d like to reiterate how delighted we are to work with you.

Your creativity, determination and experience in the sales field has turned you into the ace of Belle’s Beauty.

It just so happens that our subscription brand is about to expand overseas, and we are in need of a manager to oversee it. We would be delighted to offer you the position, starting as soon as possible.

We are prepared to offer you a sizable annual salary (open to negotiation as we want to make this offer as tantalizing as possible) along with a host of benefits including paid housing, transportation, and entertainment packages.

Please find attached your detailed offer letter. If you’re interested, I would love to discuss this venture in more detail with you.

Regards,

Steven Sutherburg

Baby Box Marketing Director

I slap my hand over my mouth to contain a gasp. Baby Box wants to poach me from Belle’s Beauty. Which isn’t an option I would entertain at any other time.

But right now…

I set an appointment with Mr. Sutherburg’s secretary. It’s irresponsible to meet about another job while I’m currently on Belle’s Beauty business. We agree to discuss it after work.

A few hours later, when I’m at the production factory, I remember Alistair’s heated warning to avoid Sutherburg at all costs. It seemed completely random, especially given the circumstances. Now, it makes sense. Did he know about Sutherburg’s interest in hiring me?

My gut is telling me yes. Not only did he know, but he didn’t want to give me the opportunity to accept or deny the position myself.

I curl my fingers into fists. How many times do I have to tell him? Holland Alistair doesn’t own me.

We both got caught, so it’s both our responsibility to find a solution. I have a choice, and I’ll make the decision. Because this is my life and I’m the only one who can save me.

From now on, I’ll do everything I can to protect the company, to protect Belle, and to protect myself.

Sutherburg meets me at a trendy coffee shop with futuristic artwork on the walls and the world’s most uncomfortable chairs. I squirm in my seat, trying to find the best position.

“I appreciate you making the time for me, Miss Jones.”

“Thank you too. I’ve been busy with the Baby Box promotions, so I’m glad you were willing to accommodate my schedule.”

“We’re the ones trying to convince you to abandon your loyalties. We’ll be on our best behavior.” He chuckles.

I don’t. The betrayal of it… I’m not relishing that. Alistair is working extremely hard to quell the rumors. He’s honoring my request to keep a distance in the office. He sends Ezekiel with coffee every day, and Bernard is always there to take me home.

I can feel Alistair taking care of me, even though we don’t see each other outside of work. And it only makes me more determined to do my part.

“Let’s get to the point.” I tilt my head. “Why is Baby Box suddenly interested in hiring me?”

“You’re a marketing genius. You’re also the woman who turned a promo date error into an explosive PR success. Whatever you touch seems to turn to gold.”

I narrow my eyes. “Is that all?”

“What else could it be?”

“Mr. Walsh seemed to have a personal interest in me on the day we met at Fine Industries. Is this a ploy to—”

“No. No.” He shakes his head. “Walsh has… his proclivities, but I don’t subscribe to them and I don’t encourage them either.”

My suspicious look doesn’t waver.

“I’ll admit, he was the one who brought up the topic of hiring you. He seems to want to prove something to Alistair—”

I scoff. “Thanks for being honest, but I’m no pawn in the game of powerful men.”

“Miss Jones, please let me finish. Normally, I would never be so transparent in a pitch. It’s counterproductive. But I told you that information for a reason. You don’t trust Walsh. Fine. Then trust me.”

I stare at the portly man.

He gestures with his hands. “I knew you were a gem the moment you opened up in the Belle’s Beauty pitch. You see things from a different, fresh perspective and you have the discipline and maturity to carry it through to the end. It’s tough to find someone like you. Someone with all those qualities. I’m here myself, instead of hiring a talent scout, because I know that you would flourish at Baby Box.”

His words are convincing, but I still shake my head. “I only came today to hear you out, not to make any decisions.”

“Fine. That’s fair. So how about you allow me to be blunt with you?”

I gesture for him to go ahead.

“As we speak, Holland Alistair is desperately trying to suppress a photo of you two together in a romantic moment.”

I curl my fingers inward.

“Yes, we know. News leaks fast in this business, and it’s only a matter of time before the press catches wind of it.” He sticks up two pudgy fingers. “There are many problems with that, but here are the main two. First, the image of Belle’s Beauty as a pure and trusted brand will be destroyed. Second, Baby Box will have the authority to break the contract.”

“What?” I lurch forward.

“There’s a clause in our agreement that states, should Belle’s Beauty lose its standing or do anything to jeopardize the reputation of Baby Box, we have the right to cancel the contract.” He taps the table. “As you’re probably aware, we have enough evidence to not only break the contract but sue for damages.”

I blink rapidly. “It’s one picture.”

“It’s a sullied reputation. Aren’t you aware of our current political and social climate? Stories of men abusing their power can end an empire nowadays.”

“Alistair isn’t like that. We’re dating. By choice. I was not manipulated into anything.”

“The press isn’t going to run a beautiful love story, Miss Jones. A heartwarming romance doesn’t make for a sizzling headline.”

I glare at him.

He releases a breath. “The world isn’t fair. Nothing happens the way it’s supposed to. The good guys don’t always win. The evil ones don’t get their just desserts. The little people, like me and you, we have to do our best with what we’ve been given.”

“And if I don’t ‘do my best’, which means doing what you want, Belle’s Beauty will suffer?”

“It doesn’t matter how you look at it, Miss Jones, the damage has been done. Even if Alistair marries you tomorrow, you’re already tainted. His relationship with you is a black mark on his permanent record. He might be able to recover. The men in these cases always do, but can you?”

I blink rapidly. Doubts wind through me, but I put up a strong front. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I see that you care for Alistair. I won’t judge either. Whether you’re having an affair or not,” he waves a hand, “that’s none of my business. But this isn’t a romantic movie, Miss Jones. This is real life. And in real life, you either make the hard choices or someone makes it for you.” He pauses dramatically. “Can you trust him, Miss Jones, to clean up this mess without hurting you, himself or the company?”

I swallow hard.

“Shouldn’t you think about yourself? What you want? If Belle’s Beauty is truly it for you or if it’s just a stepping stone into something you truly love?” He lowers his voice. “Perhaps something that employs that Lit degree?”

My eyebrows jump.

“I think, if you truly look inside yourself, you’ll see that this offer isn’t a bad one and that all the doors are opening right here, right now, so you can walk through them.”

“I should go.” Hurrying to my feet, I back away from the table.

“I’ll be in touch, Miss Jones.”

I stumble into the night, battling the tightness in my throat. No matter how much I try, I can’t deny that Sutherburg has a point. Choosing my own path might mean letting go of Belle’s Beauty.

The next day, Bernard picks me up from home.

He doesn’t have to say a word. I just get into the car and let him drive me to the factory. It seems like Alistair still hasn’t found a way to stop the gossip.

And he probably won’t.

With every second that passes, Sutherburg’s offer looks like the best way out of this. My reputation at the company is ruined. If the rumors crawl into the public eye, I won’t have a chance to fix it.

But how do I tell my boss?

When my phone buzzes with a call from Alistair later that evening, I almost reject it. My thoughts are spiraling in a direction that leads me away from him. How do I tell him the truth?

Nervously, I answer his call.

“Hey.” His voice is subdued. I can feel his exhaustion. With all the chaos going on at Belle’s Beauty and his licensing play at Fine Industries, this headache is the last thing he needs.

“Where are you?” I ask.

“At the office.”

“We need to talk.”

He goes extremely quiet.

“Can you make time?”

“I’ve got a meeting later, but I can try to wrap it up quickly.”

“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”

The hours crawl by until I see Alistair again.

He crashes into the diner, a tiger on the prowl. Sharp eyes cut through the crowd before they land on me. I can see electric currents bristling under his skin as he strides my way.

Heads turn to follow his journey down the aisle. Not surprising. Alistair is mind-blowingly gorgeous. Everything about him—from the thick hair to the square shoulders to the long, long legs commands attention. It’s like a magnetic field that doesn’t ask permission. It just grabs everything in its orbit.

He slides into the booth across from me. His jaw is clenched tight.

“You look tired,” I say softly. It’s true. His eyes are bloodshot, and his hair is falling messily over his forehead. Usually, his hair is styled back, every lock in place.

“There’s a lot going on.” He reaches out and takes my hand.

I glance around anxiously before sliding it out of his grip.

His eyes narrow. “Kenya.”

“I met Sutherburg.”

His shoulders get stiff, muscles coiling beneath rippling tan skin. “When?”

“A few days ago.”

“And you’re just telling me?”

His tone makes me bristle. “I don’t need to report my daily activities to you, Alistair.”

“I told you not to.”

I snarl at him. “And?”

“And you went ahead and did it anyway.”

“Because I am my own person. You don’t pay me for the privilege of controlling my thoughts and actions. There’s not enough money in the world to buy that privilege.”

“Don’t try to play this like I’m a controlling jerk.”

“You kind of are.”

He scowls. “You know I don’t trust that guy as far as I can throw him. Walsh is into you. It’s clear as day.”

“Walsh wasn’t the one who—”

“Sutherburg is his puppy. Walsh is for sure pulling the strings.”

“It’s a legit offer.”

He slams his fist against the table and cups start shaking. “I found out who leaked those pictures. It wasn’t someone in the company.”

My jaw drops.

“Someone was tailing us. Me, specifically.”

“Walsh?” My voice rises in pitch.

“He’s denying it hard now, but if I investigate more, I know I can tie it to him.”

Confusion makes my head spin.

“That’s why I told you not to get in contact. They’re playing games you don’t want to be a part of.”

“Walsh is seedy. I knew that from the start, but it’s not like he made up those pictures. All he did was expose the truth.”

“To what end? Have you ever thought of that?”

“He offered me a job, but the decision was approved by the board at Baby Box. They must see the benefit of having me.”

Alistair’s nostrils flare. He raises a hand and gets a waiter’s attention. When the young boy hustles close, Alistair grumbles out an order and the boy flees the scene like he’s running from a bear.

I fold my arms over my chest. “I haven’t completely made up my mind, but I’m thinking of saying yes.”

“Dammit, Kenya. Didn’t you just hear me?”

“I did. Walsh is a creep, but the job isn’t to be his mistress. It’s to work for his company.”

“But he—”

“Belle’s Beauty is at stake, Alistair. And so is my reputation.”

“I’m handling it.”

“You can’t stop a monster as powerful as gossip. It’s going to take root and it’s going to ruin you. Me. Even Belle.”

His eyes narrow at the mention of his daughter.

“Do you want her to look up your name one day and find seedy articles about inappropriate workplace conduct?”

“We didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No one knows that.”

“I know that. And so does Ezekiel. When Belle’s old enough, we can explain everything. She’ll understand.”

“It’s too dangerous. The rumors are already out of control. They’re saying I…” My eyes slide away. “I seduced you to get that office. That I was with you when you were with Claire. That I called you the night of the accident and that’s why…”

“Nonsense.”

I pull my lips in.

“Kenya, you know I didn’t hire you so I could sleep with you. You’re a damn good worker.”

“That’s true.” My lips curve up.

His remain flat.

“If I leave, it takes the heat off Belle’s Beauty, preserves the Baby Box deal and it allows us both to quell the rumors in a big way. No one can accuse you of being a predatory boss if you’re no longer signing my paychecks.”

“What do you mean ‘leave?’ Leave the company?”

I glance away. “The country.”

“Hell no.” His cheeks turn a mottled red. “I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

I bristle. “You don’t dictate where I go, Alistair.”

“You know sure as hell that they’re poaching you just to get to me.”

“So now I can’t be acknowledged for my skills?”

“Stop twisting my words,” he spits. “Why are you moving so fast? If you give me a bit more time, I can get the nonsense stories to disappear and I’ll make sure that no one touches Belle’s Beauty.”

“It’s a good opportunity. The kind of opportunity that I might never be offered again.”

He leans forward. “Admit it, Kenya. This isn’t just about Belle’s Beauty or your reputation. You’re running.”

“From what?”

“From me.”

I scoff. “This is not about us.”

“You started opening up to me, but there was always a little doubt in your eyes. A little part of yourself that you were holding back from me. I didn’t want to push you. I got that your ex-boyfriend and your sister did a number on you, but this is ridiculous.”

“What about you?” I snap back. “I haven’t heard a word from you in four days. All I get is Ezekiel’s coffee and Bernard giving me pitying looks from the rearview mirror.”

“Damn, woman. I’ve been killing myself trying to fix this!”

“Exactly! You do everything on your own, the way you like it. You take full control of a crisis that involves my life without coming to me so we could fix it together. You bark orders at me and tell me where I can go and when I can come into the office. Once again, it’s either Alistair’s way or the high way.”

A vein pops out in his neck. “Kenya.”

“You don’t listen to anyone. You insist on treating people like they’re your employees. Like they all rise and fall on your word. Well, let me make one thing clear Alistair, I don’t work for you when I’m off the clock. You don’t get to treat me like your employee and call it a relationship.”

His eyes flash cruelly. “I won’t let you go.”

My chest rises and falls. The sound of my own heartbeat racing in my ears echoes back to me.

“Try and stop me.”

“Don’t think I won’t.” He snarls. “Don’t think I won’t follow you to the ends of the earth and drag you back to my side. I already lost someone. I’m not losing anyone else again.”

High on my emotions and frustration, I whirl around. “I’m not Claire.”

A shuttered look enters his eyes.

Pain pours out of him like frantic waves.

I drive the knife in deeper, unable to stop myself. “She listened to everything you said and where did that get her?”

Alistair’s fingers curl into fists.

Regret starts building in my stomach and flowing to each of my fingers and toes.

“Fine,” he growls. “Go.”

“Alistair…”

“If that’s what you want, there’s the door, Kenya. Don’t bother looking back when you walk through it.”

My heart shatters into a million pieces. I didn’t want the conversation to end like this. I didn’t want to dig him where it hurts.

But I also refuse to give up my independence. I am not his property. And the one thing Holland Alistair needs to acknowledge is that he doesn’t own me.