Chapter Forty-One
FORTY-ONE
Micah
I stare at the computer screen in my office in downtown Nashville.
I’ve been finished with my final audit report of the English department at East Nashville University for days. I could have handed it in already.
But I haven’t.
Because every time I get ready to submit it to my boss, I get this sinking feeling in my stomach. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
This is my job. I know I need to turn in this report. But I can’t. Because deep down, I know it’s the wrong thing to do.
I think about the night Aidan and I ended things in the parking lot of the hockey arena, how he called me out on what my job is really about…
He’s right. I put people out of work for a living. And he was right when he said I don’t even enjoy my job.
For the longest time, I was okay with all of that. I’m not anymore though.
An ugly feeling burrows in my gut, gnawing deeper and deeper the longer I sit here.
I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to turn in this report because it means that people could lose their jobs—including Aidan.
And I can’t do that to the man I’m in love with.
That gnawing feeling deepens at the same time as my chest aches.
I’m in love with Aidan. I tried to ignore this feeling, but I can’t. I feel it with every breath I take, every time my heart beats in my chest.
I push away from my desk and let out a shaky breath. My skull throbs with the headache I’ve been nursing for the past week…ever since things with Aidan ended.
My chest feels like it’s cracked open.
I miss him. I miss him so fucking much.
I love him so much.
Ever since we stopped seeing each other, I’ve been a wreck. I can’t sleep. I don’t feel like eating. It’s a struggle to focus. I’m always thinking about him.
I think about the moment he told me he loved me…
I think about the emotion in his eyes, how sure he sounded when he said it.
I think about the broken look on his face when I didn’t say it back.
My stomach churns. I hurt him so bad.
I pull my phone out of my purse. He hasn’t called or texted me. Not that I have any right to expect him to reach out to me, not after the way I rejected him.
Not after the way I broke his heart.
I let out a shaky breath. When I blink, my eyes burn with the urge to cry.
I pull up the Scribble Share app on my phone. No messages from Aidan on there either.
I navigate to the post we wrote together. It was a huge hit with readers. I do a skim of the comments.
This collab was EVERYTHING!!
You two need to write more dual POV stories
We need more steamy stories from you two ASAP!
Okay, who else thinks that ShakespeareInLust and Hot4Hermia are dating? Because these two write like they’re having crazy hot sex all the time
If these two aren’t together, they need to be!
Yes!! We ship you, ShakespeareInLust and Hot4Hermia!
A sad smile tugs at my lips. Just then, my phone rings. When I see it’s my sister, I’m confused. It’s early morning here, which means it’s the middle of her work day in London. She should be too busy working to call me.
I answer. “Hey. Is everything okay?”
Jordan lets out a heavy sigh. “I was calling to ask you that same question.”
“Why?”
“Because every time this past week I tried to FaceTime with you or text you, you shut me down. Something’s up with you, Micah.”
I hesitate. This whole week I’ve been avoiding talking to her because I knew I would break down, and I’m sick of breaking down in front of my sister. I did that when I went through my breakup with Ashton. I don’t want her to think that all I do is cry over guys.
Before I can say anything, she speaks.
“Micah. I’m your sister. You can tell me anything.”
“I know.” Emotion clogs my throat, but I push on.
I stand up, close my office door, then tell her everything that happened with Aidan. I tell her how my feelings for him deepened the more time we spent together. I tell her about how we both opened up to each other. I tell her about running into my boss at his brother’s hockey game. I tell her about how Aidan told me he was in love with me but I was too scared to say it back, so we ended things.
By the time I’m finished, I’ve gone through a pile of tissues. I’m a snotty mess.
“Oh, Micah. I’m so sorry.”
I let out a heavy sigh and sniffle. I wipe my nose. “Yeah, but I’ll get through it.”
There’s a pause on her end of the line.
“What is it?” I ask.
She doesn’t say anything at first. “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you okay with the way things ended between you two?” she asks.
“Of course I’m not okay with it,” I say. “But I have a job to do. There’s no way Aidan and I can work out when my job is to potentially put him out of a job.”
“Then why are you still working there?”
I pause, shocked. “What?”
“Micah, you said yourself this doesn’t feel right. You’re sick to your stomach. You’ve been sitting on this report for days, but you still haven’t been able to hand it in to your boss. Doesn’t that tell you something? That maybe you’re not in the right job if it’s making you physically ill? If it’s forcing you to go against the man you’re in love with?”
I’m quiet as I work out everything she’s said.
“I know how hard you work, Micah. I know it means a lot to you to be successful in your career. But you should also be happy. And it sounds like your job is making you miserable.”
“It didn’t used to. I used to be fine with it,” I say.
“It’s okay to change your mind, Micah. It’s okay to work at a job for a while and then lose interest. It’s okay to want to try something else.”
I think about what my sister just said. It’s so simple. And true.
“What makes you happy?” she asks after I’m quiet for a while.
“Writing.” I say it without even thinking.
“Really?” She sounds surprised, but not in a condescending way. More like she’s intrigued.
“Yeah. I’ve wanted to be a writer for a long time. I just never told anyone because I was afraid of what people would think. I’ve never been a creative person. No one sees me that way. Everyone sees me as the no-nonsense, business-minded person.”
“So? You can be whatever you want, Micah.” I can hear the smile in my sister’s voice.
“I write fanfic sometimes, for this one app.” My nerves crackle as I admit this to her.
“Really? That’s awesome.” She’s smiling even wider now. I can tell. “Can I read it?”
I let out a flustered laugh. “It’s pretty steamy—not sure if you’d like it.”
“That sounds fun, honestly. I’d love to read it, if that’s okay with you.”
I start to smile. It feels really, really good to hear my sister say that she wants to read my writing.
“Okay, sure.” I tell her all about the app Scribble Share and promise to send her a link to my stories.
“My sister is romance writer. This is really freaking cool.”
I laugh. There’s another stretch of silence between us.
“You deserve to be happy, Micah. In your job, in your relationship, in everything that you do. I really hope you know that.”
Emotion wells up inside of me. “Thanks, Jordan. You’re the best.”
“I know,” she teases.
I promise to FaceTime her later this week. We hang up, and I look back at my computer screen. As I skim my report for the millionth time, that unsettled feeling burrows deep inside of me.
I can’t do this anymore.
I stand up from my desk, walk out of my office, and go into my boss’s corner office. He’s on the phone, but he waves me in. I sit down in front of his desk as he wraps up his conversation.
When he hangs up the phone, he folds his hands on his desk and nods at me. “What can I do for you, Micah?”
I take a breath. “I won’t be submitting my audit for the English department at East Nashville University. I quit.”