Butterflies in Honey (Growing Pains #3)(21)

Another part of her was nervous. She didn’t know how she could work with him. How she could see him every day and not break down in tears. The pain from the last separation still had her crying herself to sleep a couple of nights a week. She was not over him. And since he made it clear he wanted distance between them, she didn’t know how she’d hide it. Worse, if he started dating someone else, it would devastate her. Literally crush her into paste.

Another part of her was so angry she could barely think. He’d cast her off, which was his right to do—she had to respect that—but he owed her an explanation as to why he turned up in her life like this. After all this time, after what they’d had, how they’d left it—he owed her a goddamned explanation! He should have given it to her six months ago when she asked about him selling his house! Or when he hinted about the freaking job offer, of all things! That was when he might have just thrown it out there. Oh hey, by the way, no big deal, but I might just move down to your neck of the woods, become your boss, and ruin your life. But still, move on, all right? Be happy. But, you know, prepare for me to destroy you. Mmmm…kay?

The last part of her, and possibly the biggest, didn’t realize life could hurt this much. Didn’t realize a broken heart could possibly feel like this. Like someone burrowed a hole in her chest with a dull spoon, used said dull spoon to uproot her heart, rip out her heart strings slowly, grind the whole lot into pulp with gravel, then cauterize the gaping wound with acid. That was about where she was, pain-wise.

If he knew about this, or even knew about the possibility, why didn’t he tell her to wait? Or at least tell her what he was planning, and let her decide if she wanted to wait or not? Why did he push her away, again, six months ago? Six short months. Even if he was daunted that she technically had a boyfriend, he could have just thrown it out there and let her decide. Hell, she’d told him she was happy when she was with him. She’d cried, in his chest, over losing him. She’d told him she thought about him every day. Every damn day! Even for a dense man, or a scared man, that was pretty plain. She absolutely put herself out there, proved she was still over-the-moon in love with him, and he pushed her away. Again. Rejected her, one last time, for good measure.

Then followed her with a metaphorical tub of salt like a little boy playing with slugs.

He’d just wanted her to be happy. How sweet. In other words, please move on so it isn’t awkward when I show up and do a hostile takeover of your life. Hey, thanks for understanding!

Just be happy my club foot!

Krista thought about her options. She could leave. She could take her big red ball and go home. She could easily find another job with the shape her resume was in. Plus, her boss would give her one hell of a recommendation. He loved her. That would be the easiest solution.

It would also be the most coward solution. And-she-was-no-coward! Not like him!

She could stay and fight through it. She could climb her way to the top despite him. He wanted to show he always had a leg up? Well, he could be content until she got something better and flicked snot on him. She could easily go back to school for a Master’s degree if she needed to. She was good at school. That would not be a problem.

Or, she could get off her high horse, forget past wrongs, and try to start something new with him. Even if he was pushing her away on purpose, or had pushed her away—they had something, and Krista knew he felt it. It wouldn’t take long to remind him.

Krista snickered to herself. Yeah, that would be the day. Maybe she could find Jim while she was at it and try to work things out with him, too. Maybe she could beg both of them to love her. Why not? What did she need pride for, right?

The only option, really, was to fight it out. She had raised her position ten-fold since she had been out from under this thumb. Tory said there were great things ahead of her. So be it. It was time to battle.

“Krista, you okay?” Ben asked through the mental anguish.

Krista was still seated while everyone around her was standing. Her crew was looking down on her expectantly.

“What?” she asked coolly.

Everyone exchanged looks.

Krista stood, raised her chin, and tucked all her hurt into a big iron box, soldered

the lid on, and stashed it as deep as she could. She would beat this.

“Ready?” Jasmine asked, looking at Krista for some sign indicating the direction of her emotional winds.

“Yes. Of course.”

Krista followed the others out. She would finish her work for the day, and then head home to make a plan. Up until that point she hadn’t had a real professional goal in mind. She was kind of living in the moment, following Tory’s coaching, and working her ass off. Now, she would come up with some direction. Tory had given her the basics, but it was time to go her own way.

Instead of heading back to their offices, the crew turned the opposite direction.

Krista halted. “Wait, where are you going?”

They all turned around and looked at her with varying degrees of pity. Except for Kate, who was furious.

“Meet and greet, obviously,” Marcus said as if he was talking to a mentally incapacitated person.

Krista stared blankly.

“Kate, s’plain to our dear friend,” Marcus said in exasperation. “I need to get to the party. I know the young stud personally. People are going to want to talk to me!” And he was off.

“What’s up, Krista?” Ben asked softly.