"You can't be serious!" Elise screeches, her chair toppling over as she stands. "I've led three successful campaigns this year! My work speaks for itself—"
"We are very appreciative of your contributions." Rue’s voice is unaffected by Elise's volume, and she gestures to the door where the security is already waiting. "But even the most successful performance won't excuse your blatant lack of respect for ethics. You are dismissed."
Elise glances at all of us, looking for support, but doesn't find any. Her eyes land on me, but I can't meet her eyes. She huffs, and I hear her stomp out of the room and slam the door shut. The sound makes me flinch, but Rue just shakes her head in annoyance.
"As for you, Mr. O'Connor," Rue says, catching my attention. "Sixty-day suspension. You will return to work after two months and enter a 90-day probationary period. Darren?"
“That sounds fair,” his voice says. There's a brief pause on the line, and then, softer, “Paul, given what they had on file, this is the best outcome we could’ve hoped for.”
Relief floods me that I at least still have my job, but Rue leans forward in her chair. "Paul, I want to be clear. If you step out of line once during that period, you will be terminated. Do you have any other questions?"
"No," I force out through a closed throat. "Thank you. Joe, Rue... thank you."
"Then we're done here. Suspension starts today. I will email the paperwork to you and Darren. Try to read and abide by this one, at least. Darren, make sure it really sticks this time."
“Got it. Paul, I’ll call you later,” Darren says, before hanging up. Rue stands, gathering her papers in her hands. She leaves without a parting glance at me, but Joe remains in his seat, disappointment clear on his face.
"Paul, take these two months to really think about your choices," Joe says, his voice low. "Take a good look in the mirror, look at the man in it, and really consider if you like what you see.Because, to tell you the truth, kid, I don't like what I see when I look at you right now."
...
"I get fired, you get a slap on the wrist? How's that fair?"
Elise’s voice is razor-sharp now, almost shrill. She stomps over to me as I walk into the parking garage, where she's been waiting by my car, holding a box of items from her desk.
"It's not like I wanted this, Elise," I mutter while running a shaky hand down my face, the adrenaline leaving my body and not allowing the full relief to flow into me yet.
"You'll still have a paycheck coming in, Paul!" She jabs a finger at me, eyes wild and wide with anger. I walk toward my car and unlock it, placing my bag in the backseat as she follows behind me.
"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" Elise demands. She throws the box on the ground and runs her hands through her hair, frantic. When I don’t answer quickly enough, she stomps her foot, looking so much like a child throwing a tantrum. I've never seen her like this before. "What am I supposed to tell people? That I was fired because I fucked my coworker?"
"You're smart and good at your job," I try to soothe her, because she looks on the verge of exploding. "You'll find something else, Elise."
"Oh, really?" she laughs, but it’s a bitter sound. "Do you have any idea what my credit cards look like? Do you have any idea how much it costs to maintain my lifestyle? What the hell am I going to do for money?"
I frown as I take in her words. She said her parents are wealthy, and she would often talk about glamorous vacations, trust funds, and designer clothes and bags they gifted her. "What about your parents?"
She freezes, eyes going wide for a brief moment. Her expression reads like she’s been caught, and the hair on the backof my neck rises. Realization hits me like a punch. She’s been lying to me.
“They cut me off."
The words slice through the air like a knife.
"What?"
"They cut me off," she digs her nails into her temple, massaging away a headache. "Last year. That's why I've been living with Rhea. You think I'd ever live with her if I had options? Get real."
I can see Elise clearly now, and the ugliness of the clarity burns through me.
At this moment, Elise is not the glamorous, beautiful, and confident woman I thought I'd been drawn to. She's desperate and unravelling before my very eyes. It's like she's fine porcelain, cracking open right in front of my eyes, and I can finally see her for who she is.
Every smooth word she told me, which was supposed to be comfort, now sounds like facilitation. Every friendly gesture now feels like a maneuver. Everything about Elise in the last six months was calculated to get me to fall for her.
No, it’s even worse. I sprinted toward her willingly. I blew up my entire life because she had told me I could, not that I should.
I'm the one who let my fear, my cowardice, push away the best goddamn thing that ever happened to me.
I buried my fear in sex. I betrayed my Sophie in the most cruel way. I pushed her away to escape the possibility of her being sick and dying. I played the part of a loving, supportive man to my fiancée while I was planning my escape. I told Sophie that her breasts being cut off is a problem for me.
