Beloved (Toni Morrison Trilogy #1)(11)
He looks at me as though I’m insane. I’m sure I appear to be to anyone passing us on the streets of New York City.
He raises one eyebrow and smirks. “You should really be more careful. I hear it’s very easy to forget things when you’re not paying attention. Like the funny way passwords save when you login on someone else’s computer.”
“Wow! You have some balls. You hack into my email, steal and use my presentation, and this is what you say to me? No ‘I’m sorry?’” I’m trying to control myself, but each time he speaks the fight is leaving me.
“Well, love, it’s not hacking if I have a password. Plus, we were going to share a life together. I didn’t think you’d mind sharing a few statistics for old times’ sake,” he replies smugly.
That’s it. I raise my hand, rear it back, and slap him across the face, enjoying the bite as it connects. The sound reverberates, causing a few people to stop and stare. My palm stings, but it reminds me that this is real. I’ve hit him. Finally. I’ve done what I wanted to for far too long and it feels damn good. Considering I had to sit through a two-hour meeting next to his self-righteous, project-stealing ass, I’ve earned the right to do a lot worse.
The shock blankets his face before he recovers, rubbing his now reddened skin. “Well that wasn’t very nice.”
I continue forward, pure hatred flowing through my body—it’s red, ugly, and can no longer be controlled. He’s quick, though, and anticipates my next move. His arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling me against him. Using whatever strength I have, I punch him in the chest over and over again. I know I’m not causing any damage, but I can’t stop. Each blow is a release of the pain he’s inflicted on my life. The cheating, stealing, lying, and the way he makes me feel worthless expels with each fist I land.
“I hate you! Don’t touch me! You *!” I scream and continue my assault. Neil grabs my arms, pinning them to my sides so that I can’t hit him any more. I’m flush against his body. My brain ceases to make rational decisions as I sink into him. Memories of being in his arms surround me. I remember the strength and love they once held for me, the way they used to hold me for hours after making love, how he would wrap them around me from behind when I would do dishes. Why am I leaning into him? I close my eyes, pretending I’m his fiancé again and that the last three months were just a misunderstanding, a bad dream. As angry as I was a few minutes ago, it’s gone now, morphed into pain and sadness. I wanted him to love me. I needed him. He promised to cherish me. I inhale, taking in the scent that’s all Neil—cinnamon and coffee. Losing myself in the past, a tear falls from my lashes and slowly glides down my cheek to rest upon my lip.
I turn my head into his chest as his grip tightens around my arm. “You don’t hate me. You’re just pissed because you want me back.”
The words force me to remember he’s not the man I loved—this is the man who destroyed my world. He took from me and made no apologies for hurting anyone. This person has allowed me to spend my time wondering what I did wrong and why I wasn’t worthy while he moved on with Piper. He’s not a man—he’s a coward.
Gathering the hate and anger I previously held, I shove back against him. “No, Neil, that’s where you’re wrong. I want to be around when karma finds you so I can sit back and watch with a big bowl of popcorn.”
“You should save your energy, love. You’ll need it if you think you’re going to get this account,” he scoffs.
I lean in close and whisper, “Let’s be crystal clear, you cheating bastard. You f*ck with me again, I’ll ruin you, love.” I kiss his cheek and lift my knee straight into his balls. With him hunched over and clutching his junk, I turn and walk away before he can reply.
I start walking as adrenaline floods my system. Oh my God, I physically assaulted him. While I’m relieved that I stood up for myself, I can’t believe I actually slapped him, punched him, and then kneed him where it hurts. I’ve never in my entire life hit someone, and I’m not sure how to handle the high I’m on right now. I need Ashton and I need a drink.
I walk another few blocks, letting my pulse return to normal, before I hail a cab. Once my hands are steady, I grab my phone and text Ashton.
Me: I swear you’re never gonna believe this shit!
Ashton: You got the account???
How I wish that were the case. It would at least make this day worth it.
Me: No decision yet. Will you be home tonight?
Ashton: Be there by 6 xoxo
I call Taylor and let her know I’m going home instead of heading back to the office. I can do a few things remotely anyway. She almost goes postal when she hears Piper was in the meeting. I relay the turn of events to a stunned Taylor—everything from Neil stealing my presentation to our showdown outside the building. There are times in your life you wish there were a reset button—this is one of those times. My anxiety is starting to rise again. What if Piper’s involved with the entire project? There’s no way I could deal with her day in and day out, pretending she doesn’t bother me. I head to the station, anxious to get home and glean some wisdom from Ash. She always knows how to talk me down.
With perfect timing, I catch the train back to Hoboken—luckily, there was one leaving in five minutes. I have a three-seat row all to myself, which almost never happens. I’m usually crammed in a middle seat, trying to avoid people touching me. However, this ride I’m going to stretch out and enjoy the peace.