Page 24 of Semi Sweet (Working For Love #1)

W aiting for your next surprise cupcake!

Did you ever find out who was sending them to you?

The person who made those cupcakes must have superior pastry art skills and should be a famous chef, don’t you think?

“That dirty little sneak.”

I was doing my somewhat regular ritual of studying before I headed off to class.

I’d been in the bakery for nearly a week now and maybe it was the positive work environment or pure coincidence, but it almost felt like I’d always been a part of the department.

That being said, I still planned on giving my new supervisor a hard time.

I left my belongings at the table and headed towards the display case.

Sean was talking to Beth about something when I approached. I held up my phone, showing both of them the artsy photo. “Busted, Sergei.”

Sean pointed at Beth. “She told me about the page.” Beside me, Beth shrugged.

“Had to see what you thought about my cupcakes,” Sean added.

“Sergei?” I asked.

“It was my birth name. I’m adopted.”

Suddenly his Russian stunt wasn’t that weird. “Really?”

“Why would I lie about that? I lived in Moscow until I was fifteen months old.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “I know you two are in the ‘getting to know you’ phase,” she made air quotes as she continued, “but can’t you do it outside of work? Sean is in such a good mood lately, it’s unnerving.”

“Ungrateful,” Sean said, mock offended before he excused himself to the backroom.

Once he was gone, Beth beamed at me. “As unnerving as it is, I’m still excited to watch it happen. He really, really likes you. It’s cute.”

“And it’s so complicated,” I despaired.

Beth’s eyes grew wide as she remembered something. “Oh, we’re going out for my birthday next weekend. I kinda told him you were coming. Please, please, please!”

I had no idea how I was going to convince Evan to let me go out, but that was something I could figure out when the time came. “I’d be happy to celebrate with you whether Sean is going to be there or not.”

“Awesome!”

“What’s the plan?” I asked.

Beth was practically dancing as she replied, “Drinks and karaoke!”

I was too happy to be included to tell her that singing in public was probably something our manager wouldn’t do even if I was coming to the party, ‘getting to know you phase’ or not.

***

Thanks to Sean’s bilingual talent, my ride home was one of the most uneventful I’d had since starting graduate school.

I was in good spirits when I walked in the door, so much so that I was going to see if Evan would be up for a walk to the local convenience store for my favorite ice cream, chocolate covered cherry.

“Hey!” I called as I opened the door. “Where are you? I had the best day, I–”

I stopped in my tracks. It looked like someone had broken in. The table I typically threw my keys on was knocked on its side. The potted plant that had been on top of it was broken, soil littering the floor.

“Evan?”

I walked into the kitchen and noticed a similar situation. There were shattered dishes and glasses and food from the refrigerator was thrown on the wall. What the hell had happened here? Was I going to find Evan dead somewhere? I noticed his bourbon bottle was still in one piece and empty.

When I went into the living room, hoping to find him in his usual spot, I started to get anxious.

My hands began to shake as I took in Evan’s beloved television and how it looked like someone had punched it or struck it with something.

The screen was malfunctioning and flickering intermittently.

I turned quickly when I heard something ripping in the distance. It was coming from the bedroom.

I inched toward the room, not sure what I was going to find.

Was Evan okay? A thought nagged at me as I stopped outside the doorway, shivers going down my spine.

What if this wasn’t a home invasion–what if Evan was the reason the house looked like this?

My stomach dropped. Had he finally found out about the cupcakes?

Had he discovered what I’d done with Sean at the disco masquerade?

I heard more tearing so despite wanting to run and hide, I needed to see what was going on.

The bedroom looked like a cyclone had torn through it.

At first glance, I noticed clothes thrown, books ripped, and breakable things in pieces.

They were all my belongings. Half of my panda sweatshirt was on one half of the room and the other half was near the bed.

Pages of the manga I’d brought from my parents house were crumpled on the floor.

I’d had some of the volumes since I was eleven years old.

I noticed my porcelain figurine of a robot from a popular science fiction movie was shattered near the opposite part of the room it had been displayed, like it had been thrown.

Evan’s back was to me. My heart leapt to my throat as I realized he was on his knees ripping pages from a notebook. It had a partial manuscript I’d started a couple years ago. I’d planned on going back to it. Someday….

“Evan…?” I squeaked, trying to ignore the fact that mementos, some of which were my only memories of my old life, were destroyed. “Are you okay?” I knew it was a stupid question.

“When were you going to tell me about the Rocky Mountain Press?” His voice was surprisingly even.

Crap. I was happy he couldn’t see my face when I shut my eyes and winced. The paperwork for my internship had arrived and he’d opened my mail again.

“I was waiting to find the right time.” I tried to keep my attitude in check. “I know how you feel about anything that isn’t Cash Value Market.”

Evan finally turned around and I took a step back.

His eyes were slits as he glared at me. I’d seen him angry, loud and full of rage, but this made me more nervous.

He held a manilla envelope in his hand. With the state of everything else in the house, I was surprised to still see it in one piece.

I was less surprised to see the short glass he drank his bourbon out of in his other hand.

Maybe this ‘little’ habit he had after work had officially gotten out of hand.

“Do you know what I’ve sacrificed to get where I am?”

“Yes, but I don’t understand why,” I emphasized each word as I spoke. “I don’t understand why you can’t be Evan Quittero, not this messed up version, but the guy I fell in love with all those years ago.”

“My parents and grandparents got where they are today because they didn’t have any distractions,” Evan bit back.

“If that’s the life you want, then whatever, but why do I have to?

If I had any other job, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” I reasoned almost desperately.

“If I was a teacher or lawyer there would be no reason for me to be involved in the family business.” I continued to vent my frustration.

Evan growled at me. “But you’re not. You belong to me so you do what I say.”

I felt my hackles rising. I belonged to him? What was this, the middle ages? “Evan, it’s a paid internship, and even if it wasn’t, it’s not like we can’t afford it.”

Clearly money wasn’t an issue, as he had destroyed half of the townhouse in this episode.

“YOU DON’T GET IT!” Evan yelled and threw his glass down.

It bounced on the carpet and out of reach.

“I’ve told you a thousand times that you need to grow up and you still disobey me.

” He smiled at me with a wickedness I knew had to be infused with alcohol.

“I’ll have to find another way to get your attention. ”

“Excuse me?”

Evan pulled a lighter out of his pocket. I did a double take because I’d never seen him carry one on his person.

“I’ll burn down this place and destroy everything you ever cared about, starting with this job offer.” He flicked the wheel, igniting the flame, and held it to the corner of the envelope. I watched it turn black before it caught on fire.

“EVAN!” I screeched and dove for it.

This went beyond the internship. I didn’t want to die in a house fire or cause the neighbors on either side of our townhouse harm.

I swatted the envelope out of his hands, hissing when the flame licked my hand.

It fell to the carpet and continued to burn, the beige carpet starting to smolder.

I was grateful I was still wearing boots as I stomped the fire out.

Evan cursed and I felt him reach for my arm.

This could not escalate further. I would not allow it.

“Stop!” I demanded. “You are out of control and drunk. I think you need to leave.”

Evan laughed. “Where do you suggest I go?”

To hell , I thought to myself, but I’d just made a point about not making things worse.

“For a walk, to the corner for ice cream, just away from here, or I’m calling the cops.” I thought better of it. “No, I’ll call your grandmother. What do you think she’d say if she saw the state of this place?”

Evan stared at me like he was looking for me to prove it. The stagnant seconds felt like hours before he finally relented and left the room. A minute later, I heard the front door slam.

The silence that followed was almost as painful as the burn on my hand.

***

For a while, I sat on the floor with the heels of my hands pressed against my shut eyes.

I was too angry to cry, though I had every reason to.

He’d destroyed my belongings and ransacked our house.

It was a complete overreaction. If this was how he behaved about me getting a job, what would he have been like if he’d found out about Sean’s cupcakes?

All this time I'd been hopeful that if I tried hard enough, I’d make Evan accept my passion for writing.

It was clear now he never would. Maybe it was jealousy or possessiveness, but he saw me being anything beyond a piece of his Cash Value Market fortune as a threat.

I was starting to wonder if this version of Evan had always been there and the person I’d fallen for had been a sham–an attractive front to lure me in.

Olivia, do you know what gaslighting is?

Maybe I wasn’t too angry to cry after all, because remembering what Sean said to me made tears prick behind my eyelashes.

He was right, of course. An outsider would see it better than anyone else.

Convinced that I had no other option, I dealt with Evan’s bad attitude, but it was becoming glaringly obvious that things were not going to get better.

Honestly, I was starting to believe that Evan was an alcoholic, and not the happy, drunk kind.

I considered myself strong and very tolerant, but this was getting ridiculous.

“I can’t keep living like this,” I said aloud.

Once the words left my lips, I sat up with a jolt.

I’d heard someone say once that when a relationship reached a certain level of intensity, there was no going back.

He’d smashed things and lit things on fire.

It had seemed like he was going to put his hands on me.

I’d let Evan do a lot of things to me over the years, but I would not let it get to that point.

This was it, the moment I realized our relationship was beyond unhealthy. It was toxic and volatile.

No job was worth going through this. I’d gotten the paid internship and I could find something else if that ended up not working out. My body began to shake. It was more important to get out of this place before Evan came back. A park bench was a safer choice at the moment.

Ignoring the painful welt on my hand, I scrambled to my feet, searching through the rubble for clothes that hadn’t been destroyed.

I found a few pairs of jeans, several hooded sweatshirts, and a pair of workout leggings that could work as pajamas.

Good thing I’d had my laptop in my bag, I could only imagine what state it would be in if I hadn’t.

I grabbed any paper that hadn’t been shredded and the only manga volume he hadn’t gotten to because it had been in a drawer of my nightstand.

The bathroom had also escaped Evan’s wrath and I was able to get my toiletries before I went into what was left of my closet and found a bag to quickly stuff them in.

I grabbed my school bag and headed to the kitchen where our balcony and fire escape were.

There was no way I was going out the front door, just in case Evan came back.

I stepped over broken glass and smooshed food as I headed to the sliding door of the balcony I’d stood on only a week or two ago, back when I didn’t know what to do about anything. Now I wished I’d been thinking as clearly as I was now. I stopped when I touched the handle, looking down at my hand.

The engagement ring was a rude reminder of the only choice I’d thought I had.

Not anymore. I twisted the ring until it slid off my finger and walked back towards the counter.

The empty bottle of bourbon was still there, unscathed.

I put the diamond ring on the counter in front of it before I went back to the door and slid it open.

I shut it behind me and bounded down the fire escape.