Page 39 of Love Notes & Lifelines
My legs burn with the effort. I’m not a runner, but right now the physical pain is welcomed, so I focus on that because the emotional pain is more than I can take.
I’m out of breath after ten minutes. I slow my jog to walking at a clipped pace and use the remaining time to focus on my breathing. To focus on the good memories and refuse to allow these few bad ones to be what I remember about my mother.
My phone vibrates in my purse, and I pull it out. It’s a text message from SDH.
SDH: Jane? I need you to call me as soon as possible.
Beck leaves his phone number in the next message.
But I don’t call him back. It’s against the rules, and if nothing else, I am still a rule follower. I can’t afford to lose any of my jobs, not when I’m barely scraping by as it is.
I clutch my phone to my chest, loving that someone in this world needs me, but vowing not to answer it—I can’t—not yet.
My heart thrashes wildly in my chest.
It’s not her fault.
It’s not her fault.
I repeat it a hundred times, and then say it again when I arrive at the office. I’m sweaty and blotchy, but I’m here. I’m doing it. One step in front of the other. I will make it through to the other side of this.
Pep talk complete, I drop my phone on my desk, place my purse in the cabinet drawer, double-check the lock, then walk into the ladies’ room with my head down. The reflection I find in the mirror isn’t me. This girl is sad and close to breaking. This girl has never felt more alone in all her life.
My makeup is smeared from wind and tears, so I take a few minutes to scrub my face clean. My hair clings to my neck and face as though I ran a marathon, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. The elastic I usually wear around my wrist snapped when my mother first attacked me.
It’s not her fault. She isn’t in there anymore.
By the time I’ve emerged from the restroom, the sounds of baby babble fill the air. But when I round the corner to where my desk faces Elijah’s, I find Beck holding two phones, and everyone turns their attention to me in slow motion.
One of the phones in Beck’s hands is mine—and it’s ringing.
No, no, no! There go two of my three jobs. What the hell am I going to do now? My mind spirals with potential backup plans and worst-case scenarios, but honestly, this is rock bottom—there’s nowhere else to fall. I swallow the first of many sobs that will inevitably attempt to break free.
I am stronger than my circumstances. I am stronger than my circumstances.
Beck is wearing Ruby in a BabyBjörn, and I’m momentarily struck with pride that he figured that one out on his own again. But then he’s standing before me, tilting my chin to face him, and everything about his demeanor changes in an instant. His eyes are dark and angry. His jaw ticks like he’s trying to control himself.
“Who touched you?” His hand on my face softens as he runs a fingertip over the side of my face, but it scorches my skin, swirling and sparking through my entire body.
The handprint. On my cheek. I knew it was there, but I didn’t expect to be called out this way. I jerk my chin free and flash him a warning I hope isn’t hidden by tears. He’s being inappropriate—it doesn’t matter that I love it.
“Who. Did. That?” Each carefully articulated word sucks the air from the room. This version of Beck is different—protective, dangerous even. This is the man who engulfed me on the dance floor then encouraged me to let down my walls for a few short hours, and it causes a shiver to work through my body.
But I also steel my spine because I’m out of options. I can’t lose this job, so I power through with false bravado.
“It was a misunderstanding. I have makeup in my bag. I’ll cover it with powder, and it’ll be gone by lunchtime. I’m perfectly capable of doing my job.”
“And which job is that,Jane?” His voice is silvery and lethal. It carries a command in a tone I’ve never heard, but he doesn’t move away, doesn’t give me space.
He sucks in a breath, but we’re too close—the mint of his toothpaste tingles my nose when he exhales. Then he bends his knees, and it brings us to within inches of each other. Ruby’s feet kick against my chest as he stares in one eye, then the other. Whoever he’s searching for is gone. I’m not the girl I was last spring. I never will be again.
The silence is so thick I can’t breathe.
“My office. Now,” Beck growls. Daisie Dog growls. Ruby roars. Elijah hisses in Beck’s direction. Emmy tries to blend into the wallpaper. And Caleb smirks, then follows Beck to his office while I watch the pieces of my life slowly drift into a fire.
“Where are you going?” Beck asks when he turns at his doorway. He doesn’t quite snarl, but it wipes that smug expression from Caleb’s face. In fact, he’s turning an impressive shade of red I’ve never seen on anyone else.
“Based on your attitude, you’ll need your attorney present for whatever Miss Anderson has done now.”
