Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“I’m not leaving,” he states.
“Well, I want nothing to do with you.”
His face falls before he covers it up, and narrows his eyes in anger. “You’re breaking up with me over this? It’s my job, Bridget.”
I stare at him as a clusterfuck of emotions swirl through my head. “I don’t like the way you’re speaking about my family. I don’t like all these accusations and threats that I can’t go near them. This isn’t your job. This is payback and I won’t have it.”
He glares at me. “And I won’t stand in the way of justice.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head.
He grabs his jacket. “Call me and apologise when I prove that they did it.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” I sneer.
He walks out the door and I slam it behind him.
I blow out a deep breath and drop to the couch.
Great. What now?
It’s Wednesday and I walk from the subway, up the main street to my work. It’s 8:00 on a beautiful, sunny morning, and I’m early, but being at home alone isn’t the easiest thing to do right now. I would rather be at work than thinking on my own.
My thoughts aren’t making sense anymore.
I’ve broken up with my boyfriend, yet all I can think about is Ben and why hasn’t he called me to tell me what happened at the police station with Eric.
I know Ben’s not a talker, and I know communication doesn’t come easily to him, but he said he was going to call. I don’t want to call him because I feel like then he’ll know that I’m hanging on his every word. I don’t want to be that girl anymore. I don’t want to go back to relying on him, because the shitty reality is that I know that I can’t. I won’t go backwards, and trusting him would be doing exactly that. These last three days I’ve gone over and over Ben, our demise, how he just turned up here, and how suddenly I wanted to hear what he had to say. Well, I don’t want to know what he has to say anymore, and I don’t care what he has to say… so, I’m not calling him.
To make matters worse, Joshua isn’t saying much to Tash, other than it went well and there’s nothing to worry about. Abbie and Tash and I have been having crisis meetings all week over it. I’m beside myself. I walk up the three stone steps into the building. It’s four levels and we all take turns being on reception on the ground floor. I work at a large travel agency in the city and arrange corporate travel for large companies and business professionals. The job is fantastic, and my work friends are awesome, but my boss is a real bitch. I don’t know if she’s going through menopause or what, but holy hell, she’s giving us all grief. The staff are leaving like flies and, to be honest, I can see the end is near for me, too, which sucks because it’s a great job. The door is already open, and I make my way up to level one. My desk is near the window and overlooks the busy street below. I have a Madonna lily on my desk in a white marble pot, alongside a photo of my nephew and nieces in a silver frame. I unpack my lunch, turn on my computer, and I sit at my desk.
This is the last place I want to be.
It’s 11:00 a.m. and I am on hold to an airline as I try to secure a flight deal we have going, when Bethany from reception buzzes up.
“Bridget?”
I push the button. “Hi, Beth”
“Um…” She pauses. “Didge, you might want to come down here.”
“What’s up?” I sigh as I stay on the line.
“This holy hot guy just dropped something off for you.”
I frown. “Huh? Who?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers. “But he was built like a brick shithouse and had a cap on.”
“What?” I stand and peer out the window, down onto the street.
“Just get down here!” She hangs up.
I stare at the phone for a second. Screw waiting on hold. I’ll just call back in a moment.
I head downstairs and walk over to reception. “What’s going on?
She shrugs as she passes me a coffee and a brown paper bag. I open it and peer inside.
A chocolate éclair.
I smile.
Ben.
He used to buy me a chocolate éclair every day when Gran was in hospital, because he knew how much I loved them. “Where did he go?” I ask.
“He walked out the front and to the left.”
“Did he ask to see me?”
She shakes her head. “No. But please tell me you’re banging this guy.”
I run out the front and look to the left. The street is busy and bustling, and I crane my neck to see over the crowd.