Page 167 of Hard to Resist

“It’s fine.” The smile she gives me says otherwise. “What I’m trying to say is I understand how fucked up a divorce can get and how it can ruin every aspect of your life. I know you didn’t mean to drag Verity into the middle of it, but you had to have known it was inevitable once you started seeing her.”

Did I?

I’d really thought that I could keep her out of it. I thought the less we talked about Celine, the more we avoided her, the further I could distance Verity from the issues. I thought that Celine and I were days away from being divorced. I thought she would sign the papers. I didn’t bank on her contesting it. I thought shehad enough decency in her to at least honor the godforsaken separation agreement she’d pressured me into all those years ago.

I guess it is my own fault for having a shred of faith left in Celine, and it led to my downfall once again.

“I swear, I never meant to hurt her.”

“I believe you, but…” Hannah stares down the street at their apartment building. “She’s struggling right now. Her whole world just fell out from under her. Verity comes from a simple life, but if there’s one thing she takes pride in, it’s her work—and now that’s gone. She’s lost, and I don’t know how long it’s going to take for her to find her feet again.”

“I know we still have a chance. I’m hers, and she’s mine. It’s been that way from the moment I met her. I don’t care how long I have to wait, Hannah, I’ll do it. I waited ten years for the chance to fall in love again, and I’ll wait another ten if that’s what it takes for her to come back to me.”

“You’d seriously wait ten years?”

“For her? Yes.”

She’s silent for a second and then lets out a laugh. “You know you’d be super old by then.”

“Forty-five isn’t super old.”

“Sure.” She pats me on the knee.

“I’m serious. I know she still needs space, that she still doesn’t want to talk to me. And while I hate that she’s going through this alone, I respect that it’s her decision. The moment she’s ready, I’ll be here.”

Hannah stands up, dusting off the backs of her thighs.

“You’re not a bad guy, Cullen. You just made some bad decisions.”

CHAPTER FIFTY

VERITY

Applying to jobs might actually be the death of me.

It’s been a month since that awful day in Celine’s office, and I’ve applied to over one hundred and six jobs, submitted ninety-seven design portfolios, had eleven interviews, and zero job offers. I knew the market was tough, but I didn’t think it was this tough.

Maybe I am being too ambitious. Maybe I need to take a lower role.

No.

No, I can’t do that. I can’t settle for less pay at a shittier job. Not only will it not help with my rent issue, but it would also just be embarrassing. I take pride in my work, and I know I would be an asset to someone…I just need to find the right fit.

Jenna agreed to be my reference, thankfully, and on paper, it just looks like I quit—not that I’ve been run out of my job. However, there is still a chance that there are rumors floating around about me almost getting fired and that I slept with my boss’s ex. Delute is well-known in the city, and while I’ve tried to apply to companies that have the least likelihood of ever crossing paths with Celine, there is no way to know for sure.

For all I know, she could be sabotaging me from the sidelines.

That, or maybe I’m not as good a designer as I thought. Maybe I’ve grown an inflated perception of myself while working atDelute. Maybe I am just mediocre in the grand scheme of all the other applicants.

The daily nausea I’ve been experiencing rolls through my gut. I paw through my handbag for an antacid and chew it.

I am probably taking too many of these things, but I don’t really have a better solution.

I shut my laptop and rest my cheek against the cool metal, staring out at the other patrons in the coffee shop.

Hannah made me leave the apartment this week.

She pulled me out of bed Monday morning, forced me into human clothes and makeup before dragging me onto the subway all the way to her office, got me a guest pass, and plopped me at an open desk. After three days, I started to feel like I was overstepping. Her coworkers were noticing, and while Hannah said it was no big deal—that she had forty guest passes that would just go to waste otherwise—I convinced her to let me camp out at the coffee shop across the street from her office.

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