I roll my eyes and say a quick goodbye, not wanting to hear him fucking an alpha, or vice versa. Have had enough of that in my life.
I turn my gaze outside, watching Glenn move around the job site. He doesn’t glance at the trailer like he used to. He just works with his men as if I don’t exist.
I realize I don’t know how I’m going to fix this.
Or if he even wants me to.
Half of me expects him to leave once his shift is over and not wait for me. I wouldn’t have waited if I were him. But of course, he does the opposite of what I expect him to. He lingers. Not inside the trailer, but outside by his truck.
I want to scream at him to leave me alone, to go home and pretend I don’t exist. That’s what I deserve. But I bite my tongue. That inclination is just me being hysterical, stubborn, and mostly stems from self-loathing.
I decide to try to work as long as I can, but knowing he’s waiting outside for me results in me packing up my things early and heading out.
When I appear, he doesn’t even glance up from his phone.
“You don’t need to wait for me,” I say softly, tossing my briefcase into the backseat of my car.
Glenn’s eyes flick up to meet mine. “I’ll wait all the same.”
I shift on my feet. “Why?”
“Management asked me to.”
I don’t believe that, but I get what he’s trying to convey. His lingering is nothing personal. I mean nothing to him. It’s just work-related.
“Security should be here starting on Monday. I checked today.”
And they sure took their time. According to Jericho, paperwork kept getting shuffled around, and they lost my request more than once.
Seems fishy to me, but what the fuck do I know anymore? Everything I thought I knew is no longer relevant.
“Sounds good. I’ll wait all the same.”
My chest clenches, and I nod, pulling my door open.
“What are you up to tonight?”
His eyes flick to mine, but he says nothing. I feel small at this moment. I know I deserve it, but still. It hurts.
I bob my head, my eyes stinging slightly.
“Right, shouldn’t have asked. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I slide into the driver’s seat and quickly turn on the engine. I need to get out of here before I really start to sob. I don’t want him to see me this weak.
CHAPTER
TEN
ARBOR
I spend far toomuch time online that night, browsing the internet, reading articles on how to grovel. There were the normal articles, suggesting saying you’re sorry, buying flowers, or writing a letter. And then there were some over-the-top ones, too.
I’m definitely not going to sing off-key in a public place to shame myself. Nor am I going to wear a collar that saysBad Omegaon it.
Instead, I decide to just buy him something. I pay extra to have it delivered to my door that night. And when I finally make it to work the next morning, it sits in a bag on my desk, staring at me.
Mocking me.
