“No. Henry fired me for cause. I’m done. Worse? My non-compete kicks in.”
She winces. “Yikes.”
“Yeah.” I reach for the food. I’m notreally hungry, but I’ll eat because I know she won’t leave until she’s satisfied I’ve had a decent meal. “But hey, at least the migraine popped while I was doing that.”
She chuckles. “Well, small favors, and all that bullshit. Right?”
“Right.”
After she also resumes eating, she offers up another reason I still love her so damned much. “Do you need money? I’ll help you out.”
“Thank you, butI’m okay. I’ll need to sell this place if I don’t start working right away. Florida house is paid for. If I’m careful, even if I don’t get anything, I might be able to coast for two years.”
“That’s a giganticif, Kev. You need to start looking right away.”
“I’mnotgoing to announce soccer in South America.”
That makes her laugh. “Might want to approach MSNBC. They could tap you for their Londonor Montreal desks, maybe?”
I shake my head. “No, I doubt that very much. They won’t put me on the air and risk a legal feud with FNB. Besides, I’d be a pariah there, anyway. I’m still too right-wing for them, no matter how socially liberal I am.”
And, honestly?
I don’t want to be that far from Lauren.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, no one’s talking about the Taylor incident.”
“Yet.” I usemy chopsticks to poke at the pork lo mein she brought me. “Once the shock of this wears off, I’m sure that clip’ll be drug out of the archives and thrown around.”
“Yeah, you might want to lock down your Twitter reply and DM settings for a while,” she said. “It got brutal there nearly immediately.”
“That’s not a shocker.” But I mentally note it.
“I’ll take care of packing your office for you.I’ll do that tomorrow and bring everything here for you. Less people around to watch on a weekend. Lou said he’ll help me.”
I sniffle. “Thanks.”
We finish eating without needing to fill the silence with meaningless chatter. In most ways, this woman knows me better than anyone else on the planet.
Except in the ways she doesn’t.
Christopher knows me in those ways, but he probably hates my guts,if he even remembers who I am. For all I know, I might be nothing more to him than a pleasant memory he hasn’t dredged up in years. If that.
Part of me thinks about looking him up. Because, hell, I’ve hit rock-bottom, so why not finally purge that from my soul, too? Let him have a chance to kick me when I’m down for never calling him. I’d deserve it.
Maybe it’d allow me to finally put that chapterof my life behind me for good and move forward.
“When do you need to head home?” I ask as we’re in the kitchen and stowing what’s left of dinner in the fridge.
“Oooh, no, you don’t. I’m spending the night here, with you. I brought what I need for in the morning.” She pulls me in for another hug and I hate that I cry again. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight. We’ll curl up in bed together andsnuggle.”
I don’t argue with her because, despite hating how weak I feel right now, I need this.
Loneliness is a constant companion in my life, one I’ve failed to acknowledge. That’s part of the reason I exploded.
Everything I’ve kept bottled inside me for so long finally reached critical mass.
The thermonuclear meltdown took my reputation and career with it. My whole identity.
