The first one’s gonna hurt like a bitch, and there’ll be many more where that came from.
My fingers feel like they’re made of lead as I type his name into the search bar, bracing myself for the flood of results. And boy do they come pouring in like salt on an open wound.
I was naive to think I was ready. It fucking hurts.
There he is—arm draped casually over a bar chair, cozied up with Miss Professor herself. The picture of ease.
The imaginary bandage over my wounded heart rips right off, taking a little bit of my bloody heart with it.
She’s almost a mirror image of me, but somehow more polished, more . . . everything. Her name’s Clarissa Miller,a shining star professor at Columbia. Beautiful, brilliant, and making waves. Girlfriend material. No, scratch that—wife material.
“You idiot,” I whisper to myself as my heart cracks a little more. Seeing them together stings, even though it was inevitable. Even though I hate him with every fiber of my being. Even though a part of me is relieved I’ll never have to see his stupid, perfect face again.
Bet he’s already taken Professor Perfect back to his place. Shown her his ice baths where he probably bathes in the tears of the women he’s hurt. His big bed where he sleeps like a baby after crushing hearts. And don’t forget his bath, where he washes away the stench of his sins. He’s probably even introduced her to his stupid Scrabble board.
Because professors are just so trustworthy, right? If he let me in, she probably already has a key made.
I bet he wouldn’t dare send her packing in front of his mom, wouldn’t dream of humiliating her the way he did me.
I hope he treats her better than that. Maybe she’ll get the caring Connor I glimpsed in Ireland. She deserves that much.
But so do I.
A lump forms in my throat that I stubbornly swallow down. Refusing to let him win.
“Don’t you dare cry over him,” I sternly tell myself, even as my eyes start to water. “He’s not worth shedding another tear over.”
Everyone knows the old sayingNo man is worth your tears, and those who are will never make you cry.
No one seems to know where it came from, but it’s practically the unofficial slogan for women who’ve been let down. Moms all over the world say it to their daughters, a futile attempt to shield them from the inevitable heartbreak that comes with falling in love with a complete and utter bastard.
But knowing that doesn’t seem to keep the tears from spilling anyway.
FORTY-SIX
Lexi
“Why do you want to leave New York, Lexi?” Aaron asks, leaning back casually in his chair like he’s about to offer me a beer instead of a job.
The question feels like a pinprick to the heart. Thinking about it too much threatens to unravel me.
Aaron, founding partner here at Ascend PR, exudes a laid-back vibe that instantly puts me at ease—a refreshing change from Vicky.
He’s rocking jeans and a tee, tattoos peeking from rolled-up sleeves. He looks more like a hipster barista than a CEO. I’m probably the most overdressed person here. As Aaron explained, their dress code is casual except for client meetings.
This is the first interview in ages that’s actually intrigued me—aside from the fact that it’s located in Ellicott City, Maryland, which is about as close to New York as Mars. Okay, slight exaggeration since it’s around five hours door to door. But realistically, I won’t be zipping back to NYC often.
Just thinking about it stirs a pang in my chest. If Grace comes with me, like she says she wants to, there’s nothing left for me in New York. I’ll have zero reason to go back, save fromvisiting Kayla and my school friends who I never had time to see anyway.
I decide to just lay it out straight to Aaron—I’m done with lies and bullshit. “My mom might need to move into a nearby care facility, and I want to be there for her. Plus I’m over the city rat race. It grinds you down after a while.”
Certain people have ground me down, that’s for sure.
Aaron chuckles knowingly. “I did my New York time before starting Ascend here.” He smiles. “It sounds like a solid work-life balance could really benefit you.”
He nods out toward the open-plan office space where the team is working, or at least pretending to work. “The crew here get the job done without compromising real life too. You’re welcome to chat with them to get a feel for the culture around here.”
I peer out at the Laughing Happy People. “I’d love to meet the team, thanks.”
