“And I see how you look at your sister, your mother … at Raine. You’d do anything for them. You might not recognize it, but you know how to love. And you’re worth loving. I guess I’m just … not the right person who can make you realize you’re worth it. But I hope you find that person. I really do.”
Voice falling softer, my eyes burn with unshed tears. “I want you to know you’re missing out. Choosing to stay in your past, choosing to believe you don’t have the ability to love, that you’re undeserving of love, you’re missing out on me. Someone who loves you, someone who would love you … forever.” The last word comes out sounding a bit strangled.
Rising on my tiptoes, I press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re a good man, Foster Kavanaugh.” Stepping away, I scoop up my dress and rush to grab the rest of my things. I don’t even care I don’t have on underwear—that I’m barely dressed as it is—because I desperately need to escape this house. I leave him standing alone in the bedroom without a second glance, giving a quick kiss to the soft fur of Harley’s head before closing the door softly behind me.
Not once does Foster call out to me. Not once do I hear movement or frantic footsteps trailing after me. It acts as confirmation to the fact that he doesn’t love me. Because I’m clearly not worth chasing after.
As painful as it is to be faced with this, I know it’s far past time I stop being the person unworthy of a man’s efforts and genuine affection. I know I’m worth it even if Foster doesn’t.
If only my heart could hurry up and get on board with this, too.
*
Being the office manager has its benefits. Especially when it comes to scheduling.
Had a torrid affair with your boss? Did he break your heart? No worries. Just be sure to schedule him out of the office as much as humanly possible.
Yeah, Foster probably hates my guts right now—even more—because he’s been out of the office for meetings with potential new clients and leading training at sites—far more often than normal. Pretty sure he’d call me out on it any other time, except for the fact that he doesn’t want to be around me any more than I want to be around him. At this point, it’s safe to say we’re both relieved whenever we’re not alone together at the office—having as little interaction as possible.
I may be scheduling him to death but he hasn’t complained. The tough part is that my coworkers have noticed. Especially Kane.
“Darlin’, remind me to never break your heart. ’Cause I’m sure to be worked to death.” When he flashes his trademark grin, I force a smile before turning back to my computer to finish updating a contract renewal for one of our sites.
As much as I adore Kane, I really don’t want to talk. I don’t want to talk to anyone at this point. Laney and the others have been badgering me to join them for happy hour and girls-only dinner nights, but I don’t have the desire to be around other women who are so happily in love.
“Hey.” Kane’s uncharacteristically serious tone draws my attention, and my eyes lift to meet his warily. “You hanging in there?”
Hurriedly turning my eyes back to my work, I swallow past the rush of emotion his thoughtful words bring on. “Yep.”
“Liar.”
The humor laced with the softness of his tone makes the corners of my lips tip up slightly. Still avoiding his gaze, I shake my head with a sigh. “You don’t want me to answer that honestly, Kane.”
“I reckon I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want an honest answer.”
My shoulders droop a bit and I shift toward him, my chair’s wheels moving against the smooth floor while I meet his gaze. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” I admit, my voice tremulous. He watches me as I continue. “It’s not like I can continue scheduling him like this. I mean, it’s been two weeks. He’s bound to get tired of it.”
“But he’s doing his job.” Kane shrugs. “Just hammering out more jobs and closing more deals on new contracts in a shorter amount of time than he usually would. Not a huge difference there.”
“True. But I know it’s exhausting.” Letting out a sigh, I lean back in my chair, letting my eyes fall closed. “There’s going to come a time—likely soon—when he’s had enough of the crazy, back-to-back scheduling.”
“Or maybe he’s taking advantage of it. Escapism at its best.” He pauses, letting the strong insinuation sink in further. “Like someone else we know.”
His meaning is clear: Me.
“You haven’t been around to socialize with anyone and it’s been noticed.”
I fix him with a hard glare, tossing up my hands in protest. “Can you honestly blame me? I can’t be around him, Kane. Not yet. Especially not around everyone else and pretend like everything’s hunky dory. Because,” my voice catches, becoming hoarse, “it’s not.”
Damn it. I’m about to cry at work. Way to be professional, Noelle.
Spinning the wheels of my chair back around to face my computer, elbow on my desk, I bury my face in my hands, attempting to calm myself. So caught up in trying to tamp down my emotions, I jump at the feel of hands settling on my shoulders.
“Hey, come here.”
“No. I’m a freaking mess.”