KISAREL.
I felt like a w***e.
And the worst part was that I had no one to blame but myself. I was the one who made the first move on Mr. Stark. Me. With my own two hands and whatever was left of my dignity that night. So I had no right to feel cheap and hollowed out and stupid.
His cold dismissal had volumes I didn't prepare for. I mean, not that I expected anything other than returning to being boss and employee, but his sudden coldness?
I wiped off that stubborn tear again with the back of my palm as I pushed the front door open.
The moment I stepped foot into the living room, I immediately wished I had spent the entire night with the cold, grumpy Mr. Stark rather than return home.
"Good evening, Freda," I greeted my Aunt, who looked as if she'd been sitting with her anger long eno
