Page 88 of My Ex's Best Friend

When I come out, Chris is waiting for me in the living room, wincing.

"You okay there?"

"You don't have to worry about me," I say. "You've done enough."

"I'm the only person who looked out for you," Chris says. "What happened back then was a mess. I was stupid, and I let the people around—especially Jake—exacerbate my idiotic behavior. He didn't want me around you. He thought you were too good for me. I realize that now."

He takes a step toward me. "I realize how messed up things are right now, but I really do want to make amends."

He reaches for me, but I flinch out of his grasp. "Don't you dare come near me. Get out."

"Kiera—"

"Get out," I scream. "Get out right now."

"Jeez, you don't have to act like a crazy bitch. I was just trying to help you."

I don't look up until the door slams shut behind him. Once he's gone, I collapse to the floor, my body giving out.

It’s all over. The relationship I thought we had—the love I thought we had…

Just the thought of it makes me shudder and heave. I can’t deny it to myself anymore. I love Jake, and maybe a part of me has always loved him. But he has shown me that I don’t take up even a fraction of his heart. He can’t care any less.

After what feels like hours, I find the strength to stand up. I won’t mope around. Jake has made his own bed, and I must do what is right for me and my baby.

I head into the room and start to pack my clothes. I won’t be here when he comes back.

As my final goodbye, I find a piece of paper and a pen.

22

JAKE

It's over Jake. I'm leaving. Don’t try to find or contact me.

I come back home to this note and an empty apartment. I feel numb as I sit down on the couch, my head between my hands. I cut my trip short and returned home early because Kiera wouldn't reply to my messages or calls.

She has also put in a request for extended leave citing sickness during pregnancy. Someone from the HR department contacted me about it. I was stunned because she had been telling me just the other day how much she enjoyed working.

Where did things go wrong?

I read the note again and again, willing it somehow to change. But the words remain the same. She's gone. She left me.

The only small consolation I have is that she hasn’t resigned yet. Which means I’ll see her again. Right?

The worst part is I've no idea where she is. I went by her old apartment looking for her, but she hasn't moved back in there. So, where is she? Is she okay?

I have half a mind to file a missing person report, but that's absolutely insane. Kiera is safe, she's just not talking to me.

I feel like I've opened the door to the past five years when she walked out of my life. Back then, though, I knew where I had gone wrong. What did I do this time?

Three or four days later, Bea tells me that she spoke to Kiera, and she sent in an updated document of the presentation she had been preparing for the office as we introduce the cutting-edge restoration technique.

The idea was to closely follow the results in the museum project and use it on a largescale or even outsource it other firms.

"How is she?" I ask.

Bea frowns. "As if you don't know."

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