I attempt to surge past him, heading for the door. Naturally, he moves in front of me to cut off my path.
“This isn’t the time.” His voice is devoid of compassion and far too loud for an inside space.
Matching his energy, I holler, “It’s not up to you.”
“Lettie, I said no. Not here and definitely not now.”
Murder is wrong. Murder is wrong.
“Who are you to decide?” I go toe to toe with him, armed with righteousness. “In fact, who the hell are you? I don’t even know you!”
He lowers his voice, some of the tension leaving his jaw. “Don’t say that. I know you don’t mean it. Please, Lettie. Just go now. This isn’t the day for this. Trust me.”
My gut sinks, another wave of nausea filling my insides and rising to the back of my throat.
Trust him?
Every time he says that, I want to cry or break something. Or cry while breaking something.
“That’s the thing. I can’t trust you. I don’t believe anything you say anymore. You ruined it. You ruined us. I don’t know you.” I give him a meager shove to get some space from him, sadness and anger dueling behind my rib cage. “I never knew you. You aren’t the man I loved. Whoever he was is gone.”
Tentatively, he reaches out for me. “You do know me,” he whispers, voice and chin wobbling.
I stare at his hands for the briefest moment, longing to feel his arms surround me and desperate to bat them away.
Loving and hating someone in equal measure is the cruelest torture.
How dare he destroy something so beautiful?
Worst of all, the last few days, I foolishly thought he might be worth giving another chance. Then he pulls this shit.
Yet I still fucking love him.
When he moves a step closer, his strong, warm palms make contact with my outer arms. Greedily, I soak it in for as long as I can. After two seconds, I break free of his hold. Any longer, and I’d have folded.
“Lettie, you know me better than anyone else. Don’t do this, sugar bear.”
Everything about him begs me. His words. His woeful tone. His sullen eyes.
No. I’m in control of my future. My life.
“Don’t call me that!” I roar, lunging forward before immediately retreating.
Wanting him and needing to be away from him has me absolutely wrecked. All the anguish buries itself in my stomach in another nauseating wave.
From the corner of my eye, I notice the door to my father’s office closing after Peggy dashes inside.
Man alive. If I don’t act now, I’ll be tossed out on my ass for causing a scene. Right now, I don’t give a fuck if Mia and the other chick are still in there. Here I come.
“Is he in there? Let me see him.” I dash around Tomer, but I’m hit with another wave of queasiness, this time accompanied by dizziness, so I don’t get all the way to the door before he cuts me off again. I’m physically weak, growing fainter by the second.
That’s me in a nutshell. Fight, flight, freeze, or fawn? Nope. Naturally, I freaking die.
“Lettie, listen to me for a second. This isn’t the time for this. I swear. Give me another day. Just one more day, baby. Don’t do this to him. Not now.”
I wish I could believe him. But he’s only afraid of losing whatever his relationship is with his boss.
My father.