Page 45 of The Monster I Loved
“Go ahead and do what you have to do. I’ll be off.” My voice wavered, and I looked down at the ground. Shit, this wasn’t the time to let emotions get the better of me. I cleared my throat, hoping it’d sound like I’d just inhaled dust rather than appearing to be straying from the firm boss I was supposed to be.
“No need, they’re counting down now. If you blink, you’ll miss it.”
I almost turned my back but managed to hold strong. I didn’t want to see the building where I’d promised Summer we’d getmarried crumble before my eyes. What the hell was wrong with me this morning? One damn night of amazing sex, and my thoughts were all over the place.
Behind me, the press gathered, pointing cameras at the building. They made my blood boil. Earlier, their hope was to make Fitzgerald look bad, to get a sob story about how we’d forced an old man from his home. Well, fuck that, and fuck them.
The foreman pointed in the distance. Beneath me, the ground shook briefly. A loud boom and a burst of dust, and the building folded into itself, crumbling to the ground.That’s it.It was over in a matter of seconds. With only smoke and ash rising in the air. I’d won. I’d taken something that Summer loved away from her.
Why didn’t it feel good?
The pit in my stomach turned into a rock.This is what you wanted, the voice in my head reasoned. From the start, I’d been waiting for this moment. Dying to see Summer’s hopes get crushed. To get the payback I deserved.
I wanted this result.
How did we findourselves in this place?
I wasn’t satisfied or proud, just confused. I’d loved her more than anything in the world once. Since my return, I’d been so focused on knocking the place down. But now, I felt off. My intention was to make Clive pay, and I had. What she’d done ten years ago had grown within me into something toxic. What excuse did I have now? I was in my thirties. A grown adult. The minute the building fell, I realized what I’d done. I’d stooped to a childish level, rivaling with Summer like we were twenty-one again.
And in doing so, I’d destroyed a historic building along with the homes of so many people.
“Mr. Fitzgerald, do you like?”
The foreman’s words interrupted my thoughts. “Yes,” I said hurriedly and returned to my existential crisis.
I turned to walk back to my car but paused. “I want the new building to have some history,” I said to the foreman. “Have your men get a few bricks and stones from the pile, and we can repurpose them in the exterior walls of the new structure.” It didn’t feel right that nothing would remain of a building that had once stood so proudly.
As soon as I got back to the office, I’d have the team get to work on how to incorporate bits of the old building into the new one.
Once I made it to my car, I phoned my father to tell him my new plan. “We need to have a few units in the new building for low-income families.”
“Why the hell would we do that?” he barked at me.
I knew my father well enough to have an answer ready. “PR. You want good press, don’t you? When we reveal the new structure, we’ll announce our plans.”
“Fine.” He sighed. I was about to hang up when he said, “Wait, what’s this I heard about the Cohen girl trying to kill you?”
I laughed. “Summer is upset, but don’t worry, they took her away in cuffs.”
“You had her arrested?” he barked.
I shrugged. “She tried to kill me.”
“But she didn’t. She’s hardly a threat.”
“Yeah, well, too late now.”
“Thaddeus, that was?—”
I hung up the phone, unwilling to hear another damned thing. Distraction from the project was the last thing I wanted. A strange sense of urgency came over me. I was eager to get to the office and start redrawing blueprints. This project had finally got interesting. For once, it wasn’t about winning (because I’dalready won). It was about doing something I was passionate about. Who’d have thought that I needed a purpose that didn’t revolve around beating Summer? Going forward, I wanted to see as little of her as possible. The woman I’d once loved died long ago, and I’d been dealing with her immature ghost since. She might still behave like we’re kids, but I sure as hell wouldn’t anymore.
11
MURDER SHE WROTE
Summer
It had beena week since I slept with Thaddeus, and I was still sick to my stomach about it. No, really, I couldn’t stop vomiting. Every time I thought of him on top of me, or behind me, I needed to hurl. Despite how much I wanted to stay home in my comfy clothes and eat ice cream by the gallon, when I wasn’t vomiting my guts up, I had places to be. As I hurried out of the house, I glanced at the for-sale sign in Ashley and Henry’s front yard. Damn, just like that, everything had changed. That house would always be haunted by all the great memories we’d shared as a group while Thaddeus was in prison. To me, the house was (other than that one night) a Thaddeus-free zone. Just the thought of him made me queasy again. Shaking it off, I headed to my car.
