Page 42 of Lovesick

I walked out without looking back, closing the door behind me with quiet finality.

As I walked into my office, the lump in my throat rose slowly, catching me off guard. I didn’t cry. I wouldn’t. Not for this. But I felt it. That sharp ache that comes from turning away from something thatcouldhave meant something but just didn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

I went back to my desk, but for the rest of the day, I sat there in silence, with my head throbbing, and my heart breaking bit by bit.

And I hated it.

***

By the time I got home, the day had completely worn me out. I did my best to focus on my work, but my thoughts kept going back to Dean and the answer I had given him. I kept the lights in my apartment off and headed straight to my kitchen to get myself something to eat and drink before I headed to my couch.

I got comfortable under my blanket and turned on the TV, not really caring about what was on. I ate and just stared straight ahead, feeling a little more stupid with each minute that passed. And all because I said no.

He asked me as his date.

That part echoed louder than the rest.

He didn’t want me there as his assistant, nor as a thank-you for my work.

A date.

Because he had feelings for me. That’s what he said, and I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

The funny part of it all was, that’s all I’ve ever wanted from him. For him to reciprocate my feelings. And now that he did, I pushed him away.

I didn’t know what to think anymore. It was confusing, and nothing felt right anymore. Worst of all…I didn’t have anyone to talk to about this. I didn’t want to tell my parents. They’d be worried and drive over here immediately, and they wouldn’t leave until I was better. I didn’t want to put that on them.

Myfriendswere too busy. Not that they wouldn’t read my texts or listen to my voice notes, but they wouldn’t really care that much. It’s been too long since I’ve had a true connection with them, anyway.

And at work, there was only one person I ever talked to about personal things. But even then, those things I told were limited. Leann was a good listener and advice-giver, and maybe telling her about Dean and me wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

After finishing my food, I reached for my phone and unlocked it to open my contacts. I scrolled to Leann’s name and let my thumb hover over the call button, debating whether or not I should drag her into this mess.

But I needed someone. And I was sure Leann would be happy to help.

I hit the FaceTime icon before I could overthink it, then leaned back on the couch and waited. I had never called Leann before—let alone on FaceTime. But I had high hopes that she would pick up.

A few rings later, her face popped up on the screen. Her face was free from the makeup she wore today, and her hair was in a messy bun.

“Emilia? Hey, is everything okay? You don’t usually call me,” she said with a soft chuckle.

“I know, I’m sorry.” I sighed and furrowed my brows. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Oh my…what’s wrong?”

“Do you have time? I called without asking. I don’t want to bother you.”

“Of course you’re not bothering me. I was just about to sit down on my couch and watch whatever movie first comes up on Netflix. Tell me…is it guy-problems?”

I pressed my lips together and nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Leann’s expression immediately shifted from playful to serious, her brows pulling together as she sank back into her couch and gave me her full attention. “Alright. Spill. I’m all ears.”

I took a breath, then I told her everything.

I told her about how things started with Dean. How it all began quietly, slowly, in those late nights at the office. How I tried to deny it, how he never said much but always looked at me like he knew exactly how much I wanted him. About all the moments that crossed lines. The kissing, the sex. All the hidden moments.

I told her about the high of it all. How I felt seen, like I mattered in ways I hadn’t in a long time. How he gave me just enough attention to make me believe something real was growing between us.

---