Maisie
. . .
FORTY-FOUR
He fucking locked me out. I still can’t stop thinking about that day. The spare key that normally sat tucked under his doormat was nowhere to be seen. I looked like a complete idiot in front of poor Hunter, who was just trying to help me out.
He is really done with me. One second, I felt like his whole world, and the next, it was like I didn’t exist. I rushed to The Den next, giving a quick parting hug to my family, telling them work was requesting my immediate return.
I never told them I had decided to stay.
I wanted to send the email first to make it official.
I’m thanking my lucky stars now that I didn’t.
It made leaving so much easier. They don’t need to know that my heart is buried now, never to be seen again.
Hunter fixed me up with some makeup so they wouldn’t see the bruises.
I told them Grayson took me on a mini road trip as a parting celebration to explain my absence and that I hurt myself, hence the splint on my wrist. I’m leaving the rest of the mess for him to figure out and explain when the time comes.
If he wants to shove me out, then he can deal with the aftermath.
Thankfully, there was a flight out of Lupine that night, and, after collecting a very needy Evie, I flew back home to my old life.
It’s been a week of being back in the Big Apple, seven days and nights of waking up from nightmares of that night and then sitting through meetings in a boring office to come home to an empty apartment. I haven’t bothered decorating it. It doesn’t feel like home.
The car horns that blare all night never used to bother me; now, they grate on my nerves.
I miss the open fields, being surrounded by nature.
Now, all I feel are phantom chains strapping me down.
My writing has taken a toll too. Apparently, my research trip only gave me inspiration.
I haven’t written a damn thing since being back here.
The one thing I’m supposed to be good at, and I’m failing.
All I can think about is him. How angry I am at him, but also worried.
How can I be so hurt by someone but scared for their life too?
Every night I close my eyes, all I see is him and them.
Has he been summoned for another fight? Is he hurt?
Did he need help, and I wasn’t there? Is he taking care of himself? Are they coming for me again?
I shouldn’t care. He’s not my problem anymore, as he so bluntly stated.
He told me to forget about him because he’s forgotten me.
That’s the thing, though: I could never forget Grayson Miles.
He’s stitched into my very soul, as much a part of me as I am myself.
He’s the reason for my suffering and my salvation.
He makes it hard to breathe each day, but I couldn’t keep air in my lungs without him. He’s the root and balm to all my pain.
“Maisie?” Pam barks, kicking me under the table full of every important person in my agency and publishing team.
“What? Sorry. I think that’s an amazing idea,” I say with a forced smile.
I have no idea what she said, but anytime I compliment her, it seems to work in my favor. Predictably, Pam beams at me, and I survive another day.
“Great. So you’ll have it to me by end of week,” she states, clapping her hands. I look at her confused. “Your finished first draft…like we just talked about,” she supplies.
Oh God, here come the laser eyes. “Of course. I can’t wait to share it.”
Wait, what? My first draft…my first draft! The one that is nowhere near being finished due to a giant writer’s block called Grayson Miles. Yeah, that draft. The one they said I didn’t need finished for another three months.
Fucking great.
Not only am I failing at life, but now, I’m failing at my career. So much for fulfilling those big, amazing dreams Grayson was so excited to shove me towards. They’re about to burst into a million pieces and then catch fire.
“Then it’s set!” Pam squeals, pushing her seat back.
“Now, if you’ll all excuse me, my next rising star just showed up.
” She doesn’t say goodbye, instead strutting out to pull a young girl into her arms for an overly aggressive hug.
I think I prefer the cold shoulder I get over whatever the heck I just witnessed.
I decide to call it an early day and thank my team. Time to head back home to Evie and my alone space. I somehow have to figure out how to close an entire third act in three days' time, wrapping up a beautiful believable love story when my life is its mirror opposite.
Research Notes: fiction does not always mirror reality.