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“I’m trying to watch my weight. And I’m not that hungry.” My stomach betrays me, groaning loudly for both women to hear.
I’m worried I’ve offended her when Dawn doesn’t say anything. Was that rude of me? I didn’t mean to be. I anxiously watch Dawn build a sandwich filled with sliced meat, cheese, and topped with a medley of veggies. She opens a small bagof potato chips and shakes half the package onto the plate. I’m filled with envy as I watch these slender women eat.
Something that’s so complicated for me seems so easy for other women. It’s simple. They eat at lunchtime because they’re hungry. I can’t put anything in my mouth without numbers flashing through my mind—calories, carbs, my weight. Rotating the bland protein drink in my hands, I scan the nutrition facts even though I know them by heart. One hundred calories, six net carbs, twenty grams of protein. Just enough to keep me alive…and miserable.
It wasn’t always like this. I went through high school blissfully unaware that being the chubby, bubbly girl was something to be embarrassed about. I didn’t have time to worry about popular girls or crushes on boys. My mom was dying. I didn’t party on weekends. I learned to cook because Mom loved homemade food. She was a fantastic cook, but toward the end, she didn’t have the strength to lift a pot and pan most days. In my free time, I took Charlie to parks and swim lessons because I knew how guilty Mom felt about her youngest daughter missing out on the things she couldn’t do.
It wasn’t until my freshman year of college that I was able to have my own life. I was riddled with guilt, leaving my family behind, but Mom wanted me to have a real college experience. She promised me she’d be okay until I got home…
It was the only promise she ever broke.
I didn’t have time to process the trauma induced by how I lost my virginity in those first few days of college. My mom died. My sister needed me. There was no time to dwell on the painful humiliation of what that stupid football-playing prick did to me.
I rub off the label of the protein drink with the tip of my thumb as I’m taken back to the most gut-wrenchingly humiliating moment of my life. I still hear the “moos” behind my back. They said it was all in good fun. Just a game.A princess.A jock. And a cow.But what the hell kind of game traumatizes a girl for the rest of her life?
“Spencer, did you hear me?”
“Hm?” I look up and Dawn’s crouching down so we’re eye level. She’s holding out the plate she prepared.For me.
She reaches for my protein drink. “Give me that. That’s not food.” I don’t fight her as she pries the bottle from my clutches, then places the plate on my lap. She even goes as far as wrapping my hands around the sandwich. “Eat.” She smooths my long hair over my shoulders, then sweetly brushes my cheek with the pad of her thumb.
Dawn proceeds to build another plate. Chelsea darts nervous glances in my direction, but doesn’t call me out on the tears that trickle down my cheeks.
I sniffle as I take a small, hesitant bite of the sandwich. I only get the crusty edge of the bread. But it’s enough to break the floodgates.Fuck it, I’m starving.Thick tears streaming now, I take a giant bite, filling my mouth with the perfect blend of soft bread, salty meat and cheese, and a burst of tang from the dressing-soaked veggies.
“Do you like it?” Chelsea asks.
I nod eagerly, keeping my mouth closed as I chew. But my response doesn’t appease her concern. Her head is cocked, and there’s still a cloud of worry in her eyes. I bet she thinks I’m crying because Nathan was awful to me just as they suspected he would be.
But that’s not the reason.
I’m crying because the stunt Dawn just pulled is exactly what my mom would’ve done if she were here. If I had one wish, it wouldn’t be for Jesse to have never betrayed me and Charlie. It wouldn’t be a big diamond ring or walking down the aisle. Not money. I don’t even need my new boss to be civil to me. None of that would fix the constant ache in my soul.
All I want…
All I need…
Is for Mom to be here.
9
Nathan
On Thursday, I purposely arrive early to the office. I wanted to beat Spencer in to avoid the awkward walk past her desk. Admittedly, I handled that like shit on Monday.
Obviously, I lied. Of course I remembered.
I spent the entire weekend thinking about her. Sure, the indecent thoughts were speckled in here and there, but mostly I was trying to figure out what pushed me over the edge with Spencer. For three years, dating was as appetizing as burnt toast. I had no desire to pursue it. But something about Spencer coaxed the old me to the surface, even if for one night only.
It’s not a good thing. I felt out of control that night. My thoughts and actions were far past the boundaries I’d clearly set for myself. Elise had my heart.Has my heart.And now she’s gone. I’m so tired of these assistants that walk in here, cozying up to me, as if they can replace her. They’re told I’m a billionaire bachelor, and they’re shameless about taking their shot. I should’ve been nicer to Corrine. She was forty-eight, happily married, and as disinterested in me as I was in her. Or, maybe Timothy. He was dim-witted and utterly useless. He wore Velcro shoes and I’m still convinced it’s because at twenty-two, he was incapable of tying shoelaces. In hindsight, both were better options. Now I’m stuck with the sexy, curvy, accidental-temptress who made me trip over my own two feet.
As I enter my office, I pull my phone and wallet out of my pocket and toss them into the silver bowl on my desk. A bright, red bow catches my attention.
Sitting on top of my laptop is a brand-new iPhone with a large Christmas bow secured to the box. A folded note is tucked under the bow.
Spencer asked me to give this to you. She didn’t enter your office
“uninvited.”