23. Jarvin
CHAPTER 23
Jarvin
I stride into the office and towards Lucy’s desk, my jaw clenched with determination. Lucy looks up at me, her eyes widening in surprise as she takes in my stern expression. She clutches a box of her belongings, frozen in place.
“My office,” I command harsher than I should.
With a hesitant nod she follows, clutching her belongings tightly against her.
I shut the door behind her, thankful the blinds are drawn. I round on her, hurt and confusion in my eyes as it fuels my outrage.
"What the hell is going on, Lucy?" I demand, my voice low and bristling with frustration. "I just found out you're resigning. Care to explain why?"
Lucy's face flushes, and she averts her gaze. "Jarvin, I..." She trails off, seemingly at a loss for words. The silence between us is deafening, charged with unspoken tension.
I step closer, my instincts taking over. "You can't just drop this bombshell and expect me to let it go without an explanation." I shake my head, trying to rein in my emotions. "We were building something here, weren't we? And now you're just...leaving?"
Lucy finally meets my gaze, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of sadness and determination. "It's not that simple," she says, her voice trembling slightly. "Things have become… complicated."
I let out a frustrated sigh. "Then uncomplicate it for me, Lucy. Talk to me." My tone softens, a plea for understanding. "Whatever this is, we can work through it. Just don't shut me out like this."
Lucy’s eyes flare with frustration as she sets the box down on the table. "You don’t understand." Her voice cracks, and the vulnerability in her eyes sends a pang through my chest.
"Understand what, Lucy?" I step closer, feeling my anger rise. "That you’re running away because things got tough. Because you’re too scared to face whatever it is that’s haunting you. Or maybe you're too scared to realize what's right in front of you?" My voice is harsh, the words cutting through the charged air between us.
Her face flushes with a mix of hurt and anger. "You really don’t see it, do you?" She shakes her head, exasperation etched in every line of her face. "I’m not running away because of some minor inconvenience, Jarvin."
"Then what is it?" I snap back, my patience wearing thin. "What could possibly be so unbearable that you’d throw your career away?" I can feel the tension rising in my shoulders, my fists clenching at my sides.
Lucy’s eyes narrow, a spark of defiance breaking through her demeanor. "You’re so quick to judge me for leaving, but maybe you should take a look at yourself," she says, her voice cracking as she turns away.
Her words sting more than I care to admit. I feel a surge of frustration at her cryptic responses. "What am I missing? Enlighten me." My voice drips with sarcasm, but underneath it all, there’s a genuine plea for clarity.
"Maybe it's easier for you to criticize when you have other distractions," Lucy says quietly. Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I don't flinch. Instead, I narrow my eyes at her, trying to decipher the underlying meaning.
"Other distractions? What the hell are you talking about?" I demand, my voice rising. The frustration in her eyes is mirrored in my own.
She scoffs. "If you don't know, then it doesn't matter."
I take a step closer, closing the distance between us. "If I knew, I wouldn't be asking," I retort, my patience wearing thin. "So why don't you enlighten me instead of throwing out cryptic accusations?"
Lucy glares at me, her green eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. "I saw you, Jarvin."
My mind races, trying to recall the moment she's referring to. "Saw me? Where, Lucy? What did you see?" My voice softens. "Lucy, what are you talking about?" I want to stride across the room and make her see that she's making a mistake. The tension between us is coiled tight and simmering, ready to snap. My fists clench at my sides, worry simmering.
She looks away again, biting her lip as if trying to hold back tears. Her vulnerability tugs at my heartstrings. "It doesn't matter," she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. "The point is... I can't go through this again."
The pain in her voice cuts through me like a knife, sharper than any blade. I take a deep breath, trying to steady the storm inside me. "Lucy," I say evenly, stepping closer. "What did you see?"
Her shoulders tremble slightly, and I can see the battle raging inside her. My own frustration bubbles up, but I force it down. This isn't about me. It's about us. "Tell me," I add, fighting to keep from exploding here in the middle of the office.
She holds my gaze for a moment, as if searching for something, my heart races as I watch her eyes flick down. She takes a deep breath as tears fill her eyes.
"Lucy—"
Her shoulders slump as she turns away, her words echoing in my mind. "It doesn't matter." But it does matter, damn it. I take a step back, running a hand through my hair, trying to make sense of everything.
The frustration boils inside me, a storm I can barely contain. "Lucy," I begin, my voice raising slightly. "I don't understand. If you saw something, if something's bothering you... Why won't you just tell me?"
She remains silent, her back turned to me. I feel like I'm hitting a brick wall, every attempt to reach her falling flat. The memory of our kiss flickers in my mind, the connection we shared so palpable then, now just slipping through my fingers.
I let out a sigh and lean against the counter, trying to piece together the fragments of this puzzle. "You know," I say quietly, "I've faced a lot of challenges in my life. Business deals falling apart, people betraying my trust... but this? Not knowing what's going on with you? It's driving me insane."
Lucy glances over her shoulder, her eyes softening for just a moment before hardening again. "Jarvin," she says softly. "Sometimes it's about knowing when to let go."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Let go? Is that what she's asking me to do? The thought alone makes my blood boil.
"Let go?" I repeat incredulously. "Is that really what you want?"
She turns fully to face me now, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and resolve. "I don't know what I want," she admits, her voice trembling. "But I know I can't stay here feeling like this."
My mind races, searching for some way to bridge the gap between us. The frustration of not knowing what's truly driving her decision gnaws at me. There has to be more to this than she's letting on.
"Lucy," I say slowly, carefully choosing my words. "If there's something you're not telling me... something more behind your decision, I can't help if I don't understand."
She bites her lip again and looks away, her silence speaking volumes.
The confusion and frustration swirl inside me like a tempest. How can I fight for something when I don't even know what the hell I'm fighting against?
The frustration is tight in my chest and my fists clench so tightly I can feel my nails digging into my palms. What the hell could have happened to make her run like this?
I watch Lucy walk away, her shoulders hunched as if she’s carrying the weight of the world. This isn’t just about her job; it’s something deeper, something I can’t see but can feel gnawing at the edges of our connection.
“Lucy, wait!” I call after her, but she doesn’t turn around. Her pace quickens, and she disappears around the corner. The echo of her footsteps fades, leaving me standing there, grappling with the frustration that’s clawing at my insides.
I rake a hand through my hair, trying to piece together what went wrong. My mind races, replaying our interactions over the past few weeks. Everything seemed fine—better than fine. We had our moments, our lunches, the subtle touches and stolen glances. What changed?
My office door looms ahead, a silent reminder of my responsibilities piling up inside. But right now, I couldn’t care less about contracts or meetings. My thoughts are consumed by Lucy and the sudden wall she’s thrown up between us.
I feel like a storm is brewing inside me—anger at not knowing what’s going on. My mind flashes back to that moment in the break room when she mentioned “distractions.” What did she mean by that?
Slamming my office door shut, I drop into my chair and stare blankly at the paperwork strewn across my desk. My eyes glaze over the reports and charts; none of it matters right now. The memory of Lucy’s pained expression haunts me.
Did I miss something? Was there a moment when I could have reached out to her but didn’t? I rack my brain for any signs or clues but come up empty.
I yank my phone out of my pocket and type a message to her: “Lucy, please talk to me. Let me help.” My finger hovers over the send button. For a second, doubt creeps in, but I push it aside and press send.
I lean back in my chair, frustration coursing through me like a wildfire. My mind races with worst-case scenarios. If she doesn’t respond... no, that’s not an option. I can’t afford to lose her, not now, not ever.
I need to figure this out before it’s too late, before the distance between us becomes insurmountable. Taking a deep breath, I refocus, trying to channel my anxiety into a plan. There must be something I can do, some way to reach her heart again.