“Of course not,” I say, defending her. “Fuck, she didn’t even want to tell anyone we were involved. I was the one who kissed her in front of people.”
“This,” Lizzie says and then looks over at Laurene, who finishes the sentence for her.
“It gets worse and worse,” she says. “Where is she now? Did she give you an ultimatum? Is that why you are going crazy to get this divorce?”
I shake my head. “She hasn’t said a word to me. Every single voice mail is unanswered. Every single text sits on the screen.”
“Well, she has class, that is for sure,” Laurene says, and I look at her. “What?” she questions me.
“You don’t even know her,” I point out.
“I don’t have to know her,” she says. “I know that she woke up one morning and found out you were married and didn’t come to your house and bust every single window. She hasn’t come here demanding that you answer her. She hasn’t gone to the press and sold her story.” She stops talking, and I just look at her. “And let’s be honest, that story would sell for millions.”
“She isn’t like that,” I say. “She would never bring anything negative to her. She is kind and loyal. The last thing she would do is make a scene or make the press aware of it. No, not my girl,” I say, the pressure on my chest hitting me when I say my girl. “She is not going to do that. She would never do that.”
“You need to get her to listen to you,” Lizzie says, and I just stare at her.
“Wow, I didn’t think of that,” I tell them both sarcastically. “I wish it was that easy.”
“I’m in shock,” Laurene says. “Complete and utter shock. One, that you were with someone. Two, that you love this person, and three, that you are a dumbass.”
“This isn’t helping anyone,” I point out to her. “I just hope that there is a loophole.”
“And then what?” she asks, folding her hands over her chest.
“And then we get annulled,” I say.
“Oh my God,” Lizzie says. “You think that is going to solve this problem.”
“He’s such a man,” Laurene says, getting up and grabbing her purse. “Us being married is the least of your problems. Even if we annul the marriage, you think she is going to talk to you?”
“I have to try,” I say softly. “I have to try whatever I can to get her to see me. I don’t want to think of being without her. I don’t want to think about not being able to hold her or touch her or laugh with her. It’s unimaginable, and every single time I think about it, I get this pressure in the middle of my chest, and it won’t go away,” I finally admit out loud. “I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t live without her.”
They don’t say anything to me because there is nothing to say. Nothing will make me feel better. Nothing they could do will make the pain go away. There is nothing anyone can do. Only one person can make this all better. Only one person can put me out of my misery.
Becca.
She is the only one in all of this who can make me whole again, yet the only person who will not give me the time of day.
Chapter 31
Becca
“Welcome back,” Trevor says to me when I walk into my office. I look over my shoulder at him.
“I said I was coming in on Monday.” I set down my coffee on the desk and slip off my brown cashmere coat. “And it’s Monday.”
He nods. “How are you feeling?” he asks, and I shrug.
“I’ve been better,” I say, and it’s the truth. What I don’t tell him is that instead of getting easier, it gets fucking harder. Every single day, he calls morning, noon, and night. I’m thinking he will eventually get tired of calling. I keep hoping that he doesn’t send me anymore texts, yet I look for them. I scroll through them in the middle of the night when I wake yearning for him.
“Well, you look like you need to eat,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
I’m not going to say the black leather skirt I’m wearing is loose on me. It’s the reason I paired it with the green V-neck short-sleeved top that is loose and ties around the waist. It hides everything. “I eat,” I say. “Is Francis in?”
“He’s going to be here at nine,” Trevor says.
“Okay, why don’t we meet in the conference room to go over a couple of things? Mainly New York and Chicago.”
“Sounds good,” he says. I sit down and open my computer, seeing that Erika took care of everything that needs to be taken care of. She walks into my office thirty minutes later. “Your brothers are ready,” she says, smiling at me. I get up, grabbing my coffee. “Thank you for taking care of everything last week. Even though I gave you the rest of the week off,” I tell her, and she just nods her head.