Page 20 of Lovesick

His jaw flexed. “Because that’sexactlywhat you were.”

The words hit like a slap.

“You were a distraction,” he said again, his voice sharper now, colder. “A good one, sure. But that’s all it ever was, Emilia. Sex. Temporary. You knew the rules. You walked into this with your eyes wide open.”

My stomach dropped, then twisted, then threatened to empty itself. “Don’t do that. You didn’t treat me like a one-night stand. I thought we were—”

“Because I didn’thaveto treat you like a one-night stand,” he cut in. “You were convenient. Smart. Quiet. And I thought you could handle it. I didn’t think you’d getemotional.” His expression turned dismissive. Disgusted.

Tears stung my eyes.

I shook my head, backing away from him, blinking hard. “You’re lying.”

“I’m beinghonest,” he snapped. “You were a good fuck. You were fun. But deep down I knew you’d get like this. So…messy. And I don’t do messy, Emilia. Not in the office. Not in my life.”

“You bastard,” I whispered, eyes burning. “You used me.”

And I betrayed myself for letting it go this far. For letting a man like Dean play the cruelest game. And I only now realized how far this game went.

He laughed, bitter and hollow. “I didn’tuseyou. You were willing. You knew exactly what you were getting into. Don’t stand there like some heartbroken victim.”

“Ifell inlove withyou,” I said, my voice breaking. “God, I’m in love with you!”

I was desperate, and it took everything in me not to fall to my knees and start begging him to admit his feelings for me. Because my intuition couldn’t have been that bad. There had to be something there. Something in his heart that was there just for me.

But his face didn’t change. Not even a flicker.

“That’s not my problem.”

I stared at him, unable to move, breath catching in my throat. I wanted to scream. To slap him. To cry. But instead, for once, I did what myheadtold me to do instead of my heart.

I turned and walked out of his office, closing the door quietly behind me.

And this time, I didn’t look back.

The hallway outside Dean’s office seemed narrower, and it felt suffocating. Luckily, it was only one step to reach my office door, and I walked inside before anyone could see me. My chest was tight with unshed sobs. My eyes stung, but I wouldn’t let them spill here. Not in this building, not where every whisper traveled and every sideways glance became gossip.

As soon as the door closed behind me, I let out a breath so shaky it felt like my lungs were collapsing. I leaned against the wood for a moment, gathering myself, urging my hands to stop trembling. Then, like I was on autopilot, I moved to my desk.

I didn’t think. I just started packing.

There was no plan, no true decision made, no words spoken. Only instinct. I pulled open drawers and reached for the familiar things: the navy cardigan I always wore when the AC was too high, the photo of my parents and me in Tokyo, the “World’s Okayest Assistant” mug I had gotten myself as a joke after my first week of work.

Each item felt heavier than it should. Like every one of them was tethered to a version of myself that no longer existed. A woman who believed in things. Who trusted her instincts. Who thought she could handle whatever this was with Dean and keep her heart out of it.

The tote bag wasn’t big enough, but I didn’t care. I just needed to begone.

A soft knock startled me, and for one sickening second I thoughtplease let it be him. Please let this be the part where he comes after me, says it was all a test, a mistake, a stupid wall he didn’t know how to break down. That hedidfeel something. That I hadn’t imagined it all.

But it wasn’t his voice.

“Emilia?”

Leann.

I scrubbed my face quickly, hoping I hadn’t cried enough for it to show. “Come in.”

The door opened slowly and Leann peeked in, her face concerned. She stepped inside, then closed the door gently behind her.

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