Chapter Four
1226 Words
Chapter Four
Ellie’s POV
I didn’t reply at once. My thoughts spun. Snarled beyond reason. The words slipped away. I couldn’t manage to think of the right words.
“Ellie?” Oliver’s voice slit through the hush, saturated with unease.
Yet… yet,” I whispered, my throat so clenched I scarcely drew in air, each syllable rasping like sandpaper. The idea of laying bare my life before him—letting him glimpse how close I was to breaking—spread a shiver of dread over my skin.
Oliver briefly frowned, then turned his attention to the file in his hands. He ran through it in a few brief seconds. When he spoke, his tone was only marginally softer than it usually was. “Everything’s fine, thanks, Ellie,” he said, brushing me aside as crisply as ever.
I remained planted. Surprised. That’s all? No reprimand. No frustration. I had anticipated something—a reaction, at least a bit of yelling. But this? Too easy. I nearly felt let down.
That’s it? Out came a gasp, the shock plainly evident on my face. I’d anticipated a storm, but now found myself cast into a placid sea.
He exhaled, set the file down on his desk, and moved toward me. He slid his back against the desk and fixed his gaze on me. “Ellie, I can see that something’s not right with you.” If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. I’m not going to kick someone while they’re down. You know you can come to me."
I froze. A shaft of resentment coursed through me. Did he honestly believe I could just unzip myself? Could he truly believe I’d just spill it all—about Sebastian? Regarding the sharp corners of my life? I couldn’t rely on his concern. It stung like a deceptive jab of pity.
"Really?" I sniffed, the bitterness in my voice. When, Oliver, have you ever cared? Never. I turned and headed toward the door. I wasn’t going to let him pretend now that he cared. I wasn’t going to reveal my pain.
I felt Oliver’s scowl lodged between my shoulder blades as I turned to leave. The air thickened with muted reproach and shame. My ribs tightened, steel clamping them from within—each unspoken word bearing down until I felt sure I would shatter.
I sank into my chair. The files sat before me. I couldn’t concentrate. The words dissolved into indistinct symbols. My hands trembled. I seized the papers, clinging to keep them from scattering. Everything was unraveling. The turmoil inside me roared, impossible to disregard.
My heart hammered. Blood throbbed in my head. A buzzing electricity coursed through my fingers. I was seething. Hurt. I almost shouted. My phone hummed. It hauled me back.
Dully, I watched the screen. Sebastian. Again. The rage inside me exploded, and I shot back a response without a second’s pause.
“What?” I braced, my voice hardened by sharpness as I responded to Sebastian.
Thank god you responded! Ellie, what you perceived—it’s not what you’ve assumed," Sebastian told me. He spoke in a panic, utterly steeped in desperation.
What, Sebastian? It was perfectly clear to me. I clenched the phone harder. My jaw grated. A cresting tidal wave of fury surged within me. Iceshards slipped from my mouth. Now I recognized it: a fortress of ice encircled my heart. The impulse to lash out throbbed. Should he have stood before me, I’d have kicked him exactly where it hurt him the most.
I swiveled my gaze and met Oliver standing in the doorway, watching me in silence. He remained motionless, yet his presence radiated.
It’s not as you imagine! Through the phone, Sebastian’s voice broke, laden with defensiveness and panic.
To be blunt, I’m not sure you even have a clue as to what I’m thinking. My throat closed. I’m at work. I can’t do this now. Not now—talk to me about any of this now."
Ellie, I’m pleading—come home. We must speak. His desperation stoked my anger. How can he presume to ask for anything? The balance tipped; power was mine. The betrayal robbed him of any claim to me.
I reined in my emotions. Not this time. I forced my tone steady, as if nothing could have fractured me. I’m on the clock. On the inside, I seethed, but I wouldn’t let it show.
Is that job of yours—that pathetic, dumb-ass job—more important to you than us? Sebastian growled, the venom in his voice tinged with brooding accusation.
I stopped. His words fell on me like blows. Was he really posing that question? Could he be implying that my vocation was of no value? That I should abandon my life for his blunder? Nausea flooded me. I momentarily lost sight of Oliver watching.
Rage ignited with a blinding white heat. Who did he think he was to diminish my priorities? He twisted the knife. Deeper. Audacious enough to fault me for living a life beyond him. I fixed my stare on the phone. My chest rose with a surge of betrayal and fatigue. Everything toppled. Sebastian’s betrayal at last shattered every tenuous thread that bound us.
Blake, now isn’t a convenient time, I whispered, praying the words would evaporate before he could hear them. I had no idea what to tell him, yet I’d been taught to keep my private business private.
“Why? Or is this why you’re pulling back—because your boss is listening? I don’t give a damn. Fury tore through his voice. I cut him off in the middle of his words. I yanked the phone from my ear and terminated the call.
That, as they say, was that. I was done with him. I would not allow myself to be counted among the casualties of this twisted game. That was it.
I met the phone’s screen, my pulse hammering. Sorry, Oliver. Was there anything you needed? My own voice surprised me—even, unwavering, as though nothing inside me had just splintered apart. Yet I sensed it: the dull ache that follows a wound, the woozy whisper that perhaps I’d finally become unbreakable.
In that very moment, Oliver’s words vanished, and his gaze continued to fix itself on mine. Ultimately, he uttered the first words. “Do you have to go?” he asked.
I watched him, my pulse still hammering. No, of course I don’t. Of course, we’re due for a meeting this afternoon, I told him. I compelled myself to push past the thoughts of what had just occurred. I couldn’t let him.
I felt his gaze linger for another few seconds before he turned and re-entered his office. A muted sigh escaped me.
My gaze slipped to the engagement ring on my finger. All at once, the ring’s weight scorched my skin, imprinting a mark of memories that now blistered beneath it. For years, I’d worn it, picturing an eternity with Sebastian. Now the metal felt icy, the promise extinguished.
I slipped the ring from my finger and examined it in the palm of my hand. Modest, understated, and once beautiful. Now it felt like the possession of a stranger.
I slid the ring from my finger, laid it in the drawer, and slammed it shut. No going back.
- Writer
