Page 18 of Make Me Yours
“Yeah, I’ll do it. But, like you said, it’s only temporary until I figure out a new plan.”
“Sure, sure. Not a problem.”
At this point, I’d say just about anything to secure her agreement.
By the time we finish eating, the tension has drained from her body. For the first time since I found her at the bar, Lilah doesn’t look afraid of what comes next.
And damn, if that doesn’t feel like the first real win of the night.
5
LILAH
Iwake up wrapped in the most luxurious sheets imaginable, cocooned in warmth. My body sinks into the mattress like it was made just for me. For one blissful second, I forget about everything that happened yesterday.
The betrayal.
The heartbreak.
The fact that I’m not in the apartment I shared with Devon but alone in Steele’s guest room.
The moment I crack open my eyes, it all comes rushing back like a tsunami.
The image of Devon bending Marissa over his desk, fucking her from behind, slapping her ass and yanking her hair while he whispered filthy things that he never once said to me.
Who the hell was that man?
Because it sure wasn’t the one I thought I knew.
To top it off, Marissa’s expecting Devon’s baby, and I was asked to vacate my position so as not to upset the newly pregnant mama. It’s tempting to pull the pillow over my face and scream until all the oxygen has been depleted from my body.
How has this shitshow become my reality?
The idea of telling my parents I’m now jobless, homeless,and single, makes my stomach turn. I’m a grown woman. What they think shouldn’t matter.
And yet, it does.
They adore Devon and his family. They used to call us a power couple, convinced we were destined to take over Chicago.
That’s a conversation I’m going to put off for as long as humanly possible.
Just thinking of looking for another position as a corporate lawyer depresses the hell out of me. It just feels so soulless.
And, yeah, boring.
For the first time in my life, my path isn’t clearly marked. I’m not operating on autopilot.
Instead of panicking, I’m just tired.
Tired of chasing something I’m not even sure I want.
Tired of pretending I don’t feel like I’ve been living someone else’s version of success.
Maybe I want something different.
Something my parents or Devon didn’t shove me into.
This breakup didn’t just crack my relationship.
