Secret Surrogate For My Boss

Bottled Up

How I didn’t break down in front of Lucas still shocked me.

How I didn’t fall on my knees and beg him to love me… to choose me and marry me… I couldn’t say.

I didn’t run out of the hotel in shame or burst into tears either.

Instead, I did the most shocking thing, I reached for the glass of vodka he poured for me earlier, took a slow sip, and smiled like my heart wasn’t shattering inside me.

“Congratulations boss,” I said, raising the glass. “I wish you and Cynthia a blissful marriage.”

My voice was steady and strong. Even Lucas looked surprised. His eyes actually widened like he wasn’t expecting me to act so normal.

When there was nothing left to say, he stood up and left the room. And I sat there staring at the closed door, wondering how I managed to keep my soul from falling apart.

The next three days in Dallas were the hardest days of my life.

How I kept a cool head, God alone knew. I attended every business meeting with him. Took notes. Gave smart suggestions he used immediately. And even giggled at some silly joke from one of the partners, like my world wasn’t collapsing quietly inside me.

Not once did I let him see how much he broke me.

And now finally on the flight back to New York, sitting in a different seat, farther from him, I already knew what I had to do next.

I had made up my mind exactly how I would handle Lucas Sterlin.

For real this time.

***

The first thing I did when I got back was call my mother at home in Queens. I told her I was coming home for a short break.

“Short break? Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yes, Ma,” I said, trying hard not to let the trembling in my voice show. She might have sensed something, but I swallowed it down.

“Okay, baby, come home then,” she said softly.

I walked through the cozy apartment, my mind already racing with plans on how to hold myself together and not break down. I took my time, carefully putting my things - the things I had bought myself, to the right corner. Then I moved everything Lucas had gifted me; jewelry, clothes and the car key, to the left side. I was quietly reclaiming my life. And I was moving out of his apartment without leaving anything of mine behind.

Once I was done, I sat down and drafted my resignation letter.

The next morning, I went to the office, careful not to run into Lucas. I packed up all my personal belongings and placed my resignation letter on his desk. I had kept it simple: I was moving on to find another job, leaving everything connected to my role as his personal assistant behind. I placed the car key and the apartment key neatly beside the letter.

Once I stepped out of the office, I switched off my phone. I wasn’t expecting him to call and I didn’t want anyone from Sterlin Corporation calling either.

I picked up my travel bag and headed for the bus to Queens, feeling the weight of every choice I had made and the freedom of walking away from everything that had hurt me.

“Are you sure you weren’t fired?” my father asked the moment he saw me. His no-nonsense voice filled the small living room.

“No sir,” I said quickly. “I resigned myself.”

“Why would you resign?” he snapped. “It was a good job. You were lucky to get it fresh out of college. Do you know how rare that is?”

I looked down at my hands. I didn’t know how to explain anything to him. I didn’t even understand how I had allowed my life to reach this point.

My mother stood by the door, quietly watching me.

“It was a good job, Dad,” I muttered, “but the pressure was too much.”

“The pressure was too much?” he repeated with a bitter sneer. “Now that you are back home, what are your plans? We barely have enough to feed.”

His words stung hard, but I held my ground. “I’ll find another job, sir. The same way I found my first job with my qualifications… I’ll find another.”

He stared at me for a long moment, like he was searching my face for the truth or maybe for a lie then he turned and walked out of the house without another word.

Mother waited until he was far down the corridor before she came to sit beside me. She took my hand gently.

“What happened between you and your boss?” she asked in a quiet voice. “Tell me the truth.”

I almost opened my mouth to tell my mother everything; how I had fallen for my boss, how he was getting married to someone else, how he said I wasn’t “his class,” how small his words made me feel.

But how could I say any of that? My parents were strict Christians with strong morals. My mother had warned me again and again to keep my legs closed. How could I look her in the eye and confess I had been sleeping with my boss?

The shame sat heavy in my throat. So I swallowed it and forced a smile. “Nothing, Mom,” I said quietly. “I just… I just want to quit.”

I turned away before she could look too closely, afraid she would see the truth written all over my face.