Now that Craig and I are over, there’s nothing left for me there.
I worked for him at the university, so my job is as good as gone. I wouldn’t keep my position as his assistant if he got down on his knees and begged.
His friends were my friends, and I don’t have to check my lack of texts to know where they’ll stand on the matter.
My parents are dead, and I’m an only child.
And the one person I thought was my friend in L.A.? Well, she ended that trust when she fucked my fiancé.
I step into the shower and enjoy the spray of the hot water on my chilled body.
I take my time cleaning off, and when I’m finished, I turn off the water and step out. After drying off and slipping into Maverick’s sweatpants and t-shirt, both of which hang off of me like I’m far tinier than I am, I head for the bed. I sprawl across it and scroll through the contacts on my phone.
My first call is to Craig.
He picks up immediately.
“Hannah-bear? Where are you?”
“I don’t think you get to ask me that question anymore.”
“What?” He blows out a breath of annoyance. “Look, I get that you’re upset and hurt. How can I make it up to you? I told you that she and I…”
“Only fucked one time. Earlier today. Right before you and I were supposed to get married.”
A beat of silence before, “It didn’t mean anything, Hannah-bear. I swear. I just panicked.”
“It meant something to me,” I say, realizing how true that is. “It means I can’t trust you, Craig. Not anymore.”
“But you have nothing without me,” he says. “No job, no townhouse, no career at the university…you’ve got no future.”
His threats hit me hard, but not hard enough for me to change my mind.
“Maybe so, but I can’t marry you. I’m breaking it off officially. And permanently.”
“You’ll live to regret this,” he growls into the phone. “What about the research grant I applied for? That grant is only for married couples.”
I know. “I feel bad about that,” I say, and I mean it. “But you should have thought about your future more before you went and slept with my maid of honor.”
“Hannah, don’t be rash. Come home and let’s talk.”
“I’m done talking, Craig. I won’t change my mind.”
“You have to! I need you, baby.”
“You mean you need that grant.”
“That’s true. It’s my best chance at tenure. But I also miss you. Come on, baby.”
I hang up. My hands are shaking.
Craig’s position as a psychology professor at the university is beyond safe, and no doubt he’ll achieve tenure without the grant that would have taken us to Alaska for six months. But he wants that grant badly—he knows the research he’d get to do with kids there will set him apart from his peers. And my ex is nothing if not competitive. But he’s also lazy. He doesn’t want to work for it. I was his assistant at the university for a reason. I did everything he didn’t want to do, which was a lot.
I was the one who found the grant. But as Craig was in the middle of filling out the application, the committee changed the rules to only married professors could apply. Shortly after that, he proposed.
And yes, I realized the ulterior reasons behind his proposal. But, I thought I loved him. We’d talked about getting married for months, so I thought it was speeding up the inevitable.
But apparently, a caged lion is more dangerous than one who roams free.
