by R. S. Elliot
It was only nine, not quite as late as I expected, but there was another surprise waiting for me when I turned on my cell. Jack's name in my missed call list. Not one time, but three times, back to back to back. One call was routine, a passing fancy while drunk or horny or sentimental. Two was insistent, but not unheard of. Three was unprecedented and felt more like an emergency. It was totally possible I was still listed as the emergency contact in Jack's phone, and if he got into any serious trouble, a friend or EMT might have tried to call me from his phone. And I had been otherwise diverted last night.
The thought was infuriating but also concerning. I wanted Jack silent and gone out of my life, as far away as possible. But I didn't want him hurt or dead, even if that meant briefly getting pulled back into his orbit. Normally, I wouldn't listen to any of his messages, but now, as I lifted the speaker to my ear, I prayed I wasn't about to get called to the morgue to identify a body.
"Mia." Jack's voice on the other end was rough and commanding, and a cold sensation washed over me. Immediately, I felt sick to my stomach, and my heart fluttered in my chest as though I had just been caught in some terrible act. Just the sound of his voice was enough to make me feel small, ugly, and very guilty. "Pick up the fucking phone. I'm getting really tired of this, Mia."
I pressed a trembling hand over my mouth, tears springing to my eyes. I should never have listened to the message; I should have known better. All the old fear was coming back, flooding my veins and paralyzing me. I cast a nervous glance to Aiden, but he still slept soundly, oblivious to my distress.
"I cannot believe you would do this to me," Jack said as my mind struggled to keep up with his logic. The room had tilted to an unpleasant angle, and the blood was rushing away from my face, leaving me feeling cold and dizzy. I was hardly registering what he was saying. "Bringing some guy up to your apartment like what we have doesn't even matter. Running around behind my back. Sleeping around like I don't see you fucking cheating on me. I don't know who this guy is, but I swear to God Mia, I'm going to find him and I'm going to―"
I let out a little cry of distress, abruptly stopping the recording. I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep from sobbing out loud. I couldn't listen to any more. I felt so sick, like I might have to run into the bathroom and dry heave until my abs ached from the effort.
"Mia?" The voice behind me was soft and drowsy, the total antithesis to Jack's poisonous rage. Aiden was waking up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Are you alright?"
I kept my back turned to him, wiping away my tears with one subtle gesture. I forced a small smile, glancing to him quickly to show him that nothing was wrong.
"Yeah! Just, um, awake and ready for the day."
What a lie. I felt like someone had dropped lead weights into my stomach. I was so scared and angry that I could barely move, much less get up and go about my usual morning routine.
Aiden pushed himself up onto his elbows, the sheets slipping away to reveal his well-muscled chest. God, he was beautiful. He had no idea any of this was going on. What had I been thinking, dragging him down into something like this? I had jeopardized his reputation, his job, and now his physical safety. I had no idea what Jack was capable of at this point and what he might have already set into motion. I had to get Aiden out of here and to safety as soon as possible.
Aiden smoothed his hand between my shoulder blades, and I wanted nothing more than to lean into the reassuring touch, to throw myself into his embrace and cry and cry and admit all these awful secrets to him. Instead, I flinched away. My skin was poisonous to anyone who touched it. For all I knew, Jack was hiding out in the building across the street with a pair of binoculars, watching every second of this tender morning-after exchange.
I stood suddenly and shut my blinds the rest of the way, banishing the tiny sliver of window visible between the blinds and the sill.
"Mia?" Aiden asked, sounding wary. I was acting suspiciously. I had to think of something. Fast.
"Thanks for last night," I said, not quite meeting his eyes as I gathered up my clothes and pulled on a clean pair of panties. I wanted to dress as quickly as possible. I didn't want him to see me like this; vulnerable. "I had fun."
"Fun," Aiden repeated, as though he had never heard the word before. I couldn't see his expression since my eyes were shifting constantly around the room, but I could see out of the corner of my eye that he had gone completely still. He was watching me, unyielding as a stone.
"Yes," I said, struggling against my aching heart to make my voice light and uncaring. I shimmied into my bra and started rummaging around for a clean T-shirt to pull on over it. I didn't care about looking cute right now. I felt awful for tempting Aiden into something as messy as this and suddenly felt ashamed that I owned a body at all. I just wanted to be covered up. A tiny voice in the back of my head said that was just Jack's awful programming, that I didn't have anything to be ashamed of, but the nausea was too overwhelming. I wanted Aiden out of my room, safe in his car and driving away from this place. I wanted to wash the memory of him out of my sheets and wrap myself up in clean blankets and cry and cry until I had nothing left inside me, no emotions left to feel.
"And you're sure you're feeling alright?" Aiden asked again, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His tone had fallen a little flat, and it sounded more like an accusation than a question.
"Yeah, absolutely. Don't I seem alright?"
"Not really."
"Well, I am. Sorry to turn you out so early, but I've actually got a lot of errands and, um, stuff to do today. So it would be great if you could gather up your stuff."
The weight of Aiden's stare was burning into me, squeezing my shoulders like a pair of hands, and I couldn't keep from looking at him forever. When I glanced over, his face was hard and expressionless, with a glimmer of betrayal in his eyes that sent a shiver down my spine. I never wanted to hurt him, not ever, not for anything. But now, I feared I had to. There was just no other way.
"Just gather up my stuff and leave. Just like that."
"Again, sorry for the short notice. I just have a lot to do today."
Aiden pushed himself up from my bed, standing with his hands on his hips. He cut a striking figure, naked and unashamed, staring me down with a gaze that could knock me backwards if I looked at him for too long. He was fuming quietly. I could feel it in the air, even if his voice was measured and low.
"Sorry, but I thought we had some sort of genuine connection last night. We spent the whole evening together. You asked me to stay the night. I'm just a little confused."
"I don't like to sleep alone," I said, trying to sound as casually callous as I could, like one of those people who could just drift from bed to bed and partner to partner with no attachment or sense of responsibility. Like the kind of person Aiden was. Or had been, until last night, but I tried not to think about that now.
Aiden made a scoffing noise that expressed more derision than I had ever heard from him but was covering up a deep hurt underneath. I had gotten to him. I could tell from the storm raging in his eyes. God, those eyes.
Don't look, Mia. Be strong.
"I'm sorry if I gave you another impression," I said carefully. "But as much fun as last night was, I think it's better if we stay friends. And co-workers, of course. That part is important. It's just...messy if anything else happens."
"Did I do something wrong? I thought we―"
"You didn't do anything wrong. This is about me and my boundaries. I think it's best to avoid reliving the past. Let's just enjoy what we had and move on from it like adults. Please?"
"That's it then?" he asked. He was yanking on his boxers and his shirt, buttoning with a furious efficiency that seemed almost violent. His brows were drawn tight together and so were his lips, pressed so tight they were almost white.
"That's it," I said, looking out the window and down at his Ferrari in the street. My voice was raw and hoarse. Thank God his car was still there. I was seized with the sudd
en fear that Jack might have taken a crowbar to the windshield, or slashed the tires. It seemed unharmed, but who knew.
Aiden was almost entirely dressed now, refusing to meet my eyes as he tightened his appearance with mechanical efficiency. We should be cuddling and talking about how we wanted to spend our morning. Maybe getting breakfast together at some trendy brunch spot or going for a stroll around the block to wake up, but instead, I was throwing him out like last night's garbage. I hated myself so much. But I had no choice. As long as he was far away from here, he was safe.
"It looks like I fundamentally misunderstood the terms of this relationship," he said crisply, snatching up his car keys from the ground and running a hand through his thick hair to arrange it properly. He didn't even have to look in the mirror. He definitely had practice doing this. "But that's on me. Sorry for interrupting your morning."
A sob rose up in my throat, almost impossible to hold back. I wanted to pull him back away from my bedroom door and bury my face in his chest. I wanted to make him understand that he hadn't done anything to deserve this.
"Aiden―" I began, my voice breaking.
But he was already gone, his footsteps echoing down the hall as he let himself out. I jumped as the door swung shut behind him, and a few minutes later I watched as his Ferrari backed out of its parking spot and disappeared down the street. I watched it go through a crack in my blinds, too afraid to open the window all the way, no matter how much I wanted to stick my head out into the morning air and scream that I was sorry, that I hadn't meant any of it.
But I got what I wanted. Aiden, driving away with no intention of ever calling me or visiting me or taking me into his arms ever again. And me, alone in my empty apartment with no one for company except my own guilt and shame, and a photograph in my kitchen junk drawer that made me want to lock myself in my room and never come out again.
Chapter Seventeen
Aiden
I stayed angry for days. I don't think I had ever felt so pissed off before in my entire life, or so helpless. I had no idea what had fractured between me and Mia during the night while we slept in the same bed, what had changed from a night of vulnerability and passion to a cold morning with a brusque dismissal. In her apartment, I had wanted to shout at her. I had wanted to defend myself and shake her until the Mia I knew returned to me, not this dead-eyed woman who wanted me out of her bed and out of her life. She was acting nothing like herself, and when I had first woken up I had been sure that a nightmare had upset her. It had almost looked like she was crying, and I was ready to pull her back under the covers and soothe her with kisses until she fell back asleep. I was ready to do whatever she asked, go wherever she wanted me to go, be whoever she wanted me to be, so long as I could have her. But then she had pushed me away.
Regret had set in. She needed space. It was better if we were just friends.
The word made me want to put a rock through a window, if I was being quite honest. Not her window, just any window. Any way to get out the anger and the hurt.
Mia and I had history. We understood each other. She had welcomed me into her apartment and her body totally, and I thought into her heart as well. What had happened?
I wondered if the various women that I turned out of my bed at the crack of dawn on a workday because I didn't want my gym and breakfast schedule wrecked felt this angry when I made it clear they had been a one night stand. Standing on the other end of the arrangement was more bitter than I thought, but still, this couldn't be the same thing. Mia wasn't a random hookup, someone linked to me only by our shared pursuit of a good time. She was my history, one of my oldest friends, my first love. And I thought I had been hers.
Apparently, things changed along the way. And I had been too blinded by my desire to see it.
I avoided Mia at work by any means possible, and I didn't care how obvious that might be to her. She had said that we should just be friends, but I had no interest in that. I knew myself well enough to know that I had become attached to her, and once attached, I wouldn't be satisfied with sitting on the sidelines as her confidant as she lived her life and dated other people. It was either everything or nothing, a couple or icy co-workers, and I intended to lean into my role as her boss as much as possible. I couldn't afford to see Mia as anything else but another employee.
Of course, the Carrier office wasn't very big, and it was impossible not to run into your co-workers at some point, no matter how hard you tried. I dodged Mia in the breakroom and refused to look at her when she passed me, keeping my eyes forward or buried in whatever papers I was reviewing. She seemed wise enough not to seek me out, and any illusions I had about ever using her in a legal capacity again were gone. I delegated anything regarding Mia or her work to other people, and I somehow managed to convince myself that I was saving myself stress and heartache by letting her go. I didn't want anyone who didn't want me, and Mia obviously had a hard time figuring out what exactly she wanted, but it wasn't anything serious with me. It wasn't even reoccurring sex and dinner dates with the possibility to see where it all went. There was no future for us, so I didn't need to involve myself in her presence.
But we couldn't avoid each other forever. One day, late in the afternoon when I thought for sure she had already gone home for the day, I strode into the breakroom to find Mia loitering by the Keurig machine, chewing on her nails. She looked pale and wan, like she hadn't been eating enough.
She looked up to see me in the doorway and her eyes widened, her mouth opening to blurt out something. I turned on my heel and started to walk away.
"Aiden, don't." She said, almost fumbling over her words. "Mr. Carrier. Please."
I turned to look at her, my jaw tightening. She looked like a flower that had bloomed too early in the spring, beautiful but likely to crumble under the first snowfall. I hated that I wanted to go to her and put a steadying hand on her shoulder. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't dig those instincts out.
I thought about leaving her right there in the office, but that would have been too cruel. I didn't have to be friends with her, but that was no reason to be needlessly hurtful.
"Yes?"
She took a few steps forward, her fingers laced nervously in front of her. Her coffee, forgotten on the coffee machine behind her, was steaming. I desperately wished there was anyone else in the breakroom to cut the tension out of the air, but most of the other employees were gone for the day. I was staying late as always, and Mia must have some large project on her desk to keep her here at this hour. Or maybe she didn't want to go home alone. That, at least, I could relate to.
"Can we please talk?"
"What do we have to talk about?" I asked, striding over to the coffee cupboard and yanking it open. I snatched up a cup with the Carrier logo emblazoned on it and started pouring steaming drip coffee into it. When I was younger, I had dreamed of working in a building with my name on the front and on little office items like coffee cups and pencils. Now the vanity of it all seemed silly.
"I feel like you've been avoiding me since―"
"I have been avoiding you. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
My voice had the hard, cutting edge of shattered glass, but there was no other way I could imagine speaking to her. Anything softer seemed too dangerous.
"I said I wanted us to stay friends," she said, looking at me warily. God, she looked so delicate. It broke my heart and enraged me all at the same time.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Mia."
"Why not?"
I shoved the coffee pot back into its holder, turning to fix her with a withering glance.
"Listen, you made things pretty clear in your apartment, and I'm willing to respect that. I'm not interested in continuing down any sort of dead-end path with you. Let's just keep things professional at work, shall we? Enforce some distance."
With that, I was out of the breakroom and striding back down the hallway to my office, coffee in hand. Not that I had any desire for it anymore, or that I woul
d have any appetite for dinner after that exchange. My stomach was in more knots than a sailing rope after boy scouts had been at it, and I felt absolutely miserable. A week ago, speaking to her that way would have been unthinkable. Now, it seemed like my only option.
I tried not to notice when she swept past my office door a few minutes later and started stuffing her personal items into her purse, obviously distressed. She shut down her computer with a few agitated clacks on her keyboard, and I wish I had shut my door so I didn't have to watch her sniffle and scrub at her eyes with the back of her hand. Watching her cry and knowing that I had done it made me want to rip my heart out just to stop the pain. I hated how much I cared, but I hated myself for making Mia more upset. Had all that really been necessary? Was it worth setting boundaries if I shredded Mia's self-confidence and her ability to be comfortable at work in the process? Maybe hiring her had been a terrible idea, maybe I was just going to leave her off worse than I had found her.
The thought made me sick to my stomach, and I pushed my coffee away across my desk. I opened my mouth to call out to her, to invite her into my office so that I could clarify what I mean in a gentler voice, but she was already gone. Her short curls bounced behind her as she all but sprinted down the hall towards the doorway, shoulders shaking with barely repressed sobs.
I swore under my breath and sprang up from my desk, pacing a tight circle of indecision. I couldn't run after her, not when I had just said I wanted space. She just needed time to adjust, to let this whole thing sink in. I had to be firm with her and stand my ground.
I snatched up my jacket and slid it on as I dashed out the door, swearing under my breath again and again. I was never going to learn to keep my distance from her if I kept chasing after her whenever she got upset, but I still hadn't learned to control myself. Any pain she felt was agonizing to me, and I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing I had brought her to tears without at least attempting to apologize. I had no idea what I was going to say to her when I caught her, but I had to say something.