Break Up with Him, for Me (You Belong With Me 1)

I looked up, realizing that somehow I’d arrived at an agreed-upon boardroom, surrounded by twenty people from each side.

“He’s also shown up to this hearing wearing a fucking eye-patch.” She groaned. “He’s not prepared to take this seriously today, and he’s wasting our time.”

“I was in an accident,” I said, sighing and taking it off. “I’m willing to answer all of your silly little questions.”

“You mean, my legally binding questions?”

“That doesn’t make them any less sillier.”

“Mr. Hunter—” The judge chided. “Please give us your undivided attention and stop looking at your phone.”

I refreshed the screen one last time before placing it into my pocket.

“Thank you.” The lawyer picked up a sheet of paper. “Do you know why we’re here today?”

“To try to get more money out of me.” I smiled, even though my cheeks still hurt. “Or maybe it’s because you’re trying to pretend like I’m not ten-times better at building apps than your client over there.”

Tim shot me a glare, and the judge chided me again.

“Yes, I know why we’re here.” I changed my tone. “I’m here to discuss the similarities between Cinder and Tinder for lawsuit number fifty-seven between us.”

“Eighty-seven.” Lawrence coughed.

“Good.” The lawyer slid a folder toward me, but I didn’t look at it.

Instead, I looked over at Tim like I’d done several times in the past at these depositions. Even after all this time, he still looked as worried and saddened as he always did.

As if he was the only one in the room who knew the truth.

Well, besides me.

“Mr. Hunter,” his lawyer said, “Did you ever steal—“

“Yes.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” I said, standing to my feet. “Not everything, but yes. I stole from Mr. Tim Lassing.”

The room fell silent.

“For what it’s worth—” I looked at Tim. “I’ll settle with you for what your team asked for. Forty million. I also think you should pick up The New Yorker tomorrow. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry for what?” He crossed his arms.

“You know what it’s for.” I didn’t say another word. I left the room amidst whispers and murmurs, heading straight to the elevator.

“Hayden?” Lawrence was on my heels. “Hayden, what the hell are you doing? And what the hell is running in The New Yorker tomorrow?”

“I thought you hated spoilers,” I said. “A copy should arrive at your desk tonight, though.”

“What’s it about, Hayden?”

“The truth about The Cold War, Lawrence.” I hit the down button. “I finally told the truth about everything.”

Break Up #16.5

The One That Could Never Be

better yet …

the one that really started the cold war

Hayden

Back Then

I can’t believe that I’m falling for my best friend. My “she’s way too young for you,” and “her brother would beat me into another dimension” best friend.

Her breakups have become points of conversation and nothing more, comedic relief that only stands in the way of the main scene. Or, what I wish the main scene could be.

Us …

Not a night passes by without us talking on the phone or discussing our lives. I’ve told her things that I’ve never told Travis, and I want her to be mine.

Even though she showed up to meet me at the theater, just to tell me that she’s in love with Tim—to the point of putting her career on hold for him, I can’t take that as a defeat for some reason.

“Well, that’s it.” Nina, the woman I’m on a fifth pointless date with, kisses me on the cheek. “I’m going to do you a huge favor and break up with me, for you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I can’t compete with the woman you’re really in love with. That’s her texting you now, isn’t it?” She points to my phone. “That’s who we’ve spent the past hour and half talking about, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told you that you taking me to see her skate isn’t a date. Even if it does come with perks.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“It’s exactly what I think.” She smiles, looking completely unoffended. “Go ahead. Answer it.”

“She can wait.”

“Ha! You never make her wait.” She pulls a bag over her shoulder. “See you around, Hayden.”

I watch her walk away and hold off for a few minutes just to prove a point.

Penelope (Too Young for You): Hey. Thank you for sending me the protein shakes and extra pressure sleeves yesterday. I appreciate that.

Me: You’re welcome. What are you doing tonight?

Penelope (Too Young for You): Nothing. Want to come over?

Me: Be there in ten.

When I make it to Penelope’s place, I take a deep breath and try to think about how I need to play this. She has dreams she’s chasing—as do I, but I don’t want to get in the way of hers.

But I’m also selfish and don’t want her to date anyone else. Not even Tim, just me.

I’ll figure it out.

I get out of the car and knock on the door.