Right (Wrong 2)

The phone rings again and he turns the ringer off, placing it face up on the desk in front of him. He places both fists on the desk, his face expressionless.

“What directions would those be?” I press.

He pushes back from the desk, standing straight, his eyes distant. I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve always felt like I was standing in a ray of sunshine when I had his attention. I had no idea the sun was eventually going to set.

“You’re a lot younger than I am, Everly. You need time to grow up. Figure out what you want to do with your life.”

“What does that even mean? I know exactly what our age difference is and so do you. You’ve known since the moment we met. That hasn’t changed. Nothing has changed.”

He rubs his forehead with two fingers, thumb against his temple like he’s fighting a headache. “I turned thirty-five last week. I reevaluated.”

“You reevaluated?” I seethe. “You just reevaluated me out of your life? Just like that? You cannot be serious with the bullshit coming out of your mouth right now, Sawyer Camden.”

“You have no direction, Everly,” he says sharply. “You’re graduating in a few months and you have no idea what you’re doing with your life.”

He knows that bothers me. He knows it.

“You selected a college solely as a means to seduce my brother. I mean, Jesus, how did you think this was going to end between us?”

“Don’t do this, Sawyer.” I say it softly, tears threatening behind my eyelids. I don’t beg, and I don’t cry, as a general rule. But I’m not sure I can keep that record intact right now.

“It’s done.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I am.” Sawyer gives a slight nod. “Your brother tried to warn you, didn’t he?”

Wow.

It’s true. Eric did try.

I didn’t listen.

I flick my eyes to the ceiling, trying to make the tears recede without an obvious swipe to my face.

“I get bored and I move on.” Sawyer sighs. “So thanks. Thank you.” That comes out a little softer than the words preceding it but he might as well have punched me with the words.

Thank you? For what? Falling in love with him? The mind-blowing sex? Making him laugh? Or leaving his office quietly now that he’s dismissed me?

“Fuck you.”

Forty-Four

I don’t say anything else after that. I turn around and leave his office, grateful Sandra’s desk is still empty because the tears are falling down my face.

I walk quickly, my head down so nobody I might pass in the hallway sees my face. My feet make barely a sound on the office carpeting, a soft thump likely only audible to me. I reach the elevator bank and punch the down button, grateful I’m waiting alone, the area blessedly quiet.

An elevator arrives and I get in, hit the lobby button and slump into the corner, allowing the elevator itself to hold me up. A choked sob escapes before I sniffle it in, wiping my face off with the sleeves of my shirt. The elevator slows and I groan as it comes to a stop to allow other passengers to get on. And again two floors later. And the one after that. I cannot catch a break today.

I keep my eyes on the floor but I know everyone can hear me making that sniffle-snort noise you make when you’re sucking in tears. I wonder what they think of me, a random girl huddled in the corner of the elevator trying not to cry. Then I remember I might not be so random after all. I may have met some of these people at the party on New Year’s Eve. I’m not looking up to check. I’m humiliated enough for one day.

The elevator reaches the lobby and I put one foot in front of the other, the door out of this place my only goal at present. My shoes squeak on this floor.