Page 92 of Everything She Wanted

We keep walking down the street toward his car.

“Why don’t we just check out Pike Place Market? We can get coffee and then head back.”

“Fine.” I don’t have the energy to play this game with him. The one where he makes me think he gives a shit and then I realize he doesn’t, but only after I embarrass and humiliate myself.

I buckle up as Nick easily manoeuvres us through the streets of Seattle.

I check my phone, and a smile breaks out on my face when I see that Tom has already emailed back. I scan the email and brim with joy. He’s thrilled we got the deal. Then I read the rest, and my heart plummets.

You’re a dream team. Nick, we’re going to have to talk about an extension.

There’s nothing else about me or that promotion I’ve been promised, but Nick, who’s probably already making more than double what I am? They want to keep him longer, even though they love to talk about how we need to cut costs.

Of course, they do.

I’m not anyone worth noticing at work or otherwise. No matter how hard I’ve been working for this. How much I’ve put into this role and given to this company. I bite my lip to hold back the tears prickling my eyes.

Nick looks over at me, a hint of worry creasing his forehead like he senses the shift in my mood. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing.”

I turn up the music volume, so he gets the hint that I don’t want to talk about it. In fact, I don’t want to talk to him at all, especially after what happened last night. The truth I don’t want to admit is that I want to mean something to Nick, even if nothing can ever come of it. To know that there’s even a small part of me that’s lovable, worthy, and deserving of someone like him. But all of this is confirming what I’ve known all along: I’m not good enough, not for a promotion, and not for him.

I smooth my skirt down with my hands, trying to get my emotions under control. I can break down later.

We make it to the market and spend some time wandering through the stalls, stopping here and there to check out the shops and the trinkets. We stand out because we’re grossly overdressed—Nick’s in his suit, and I’m in my pencil skirt, crisp red blouse, and pumps—but it makes for fun conversation with the vendors. That, along with the vibe and the ocean air, helps to settle my mood.

I remind myself that later I can rage and cry. For now, I can pretend. I’m so used to it. Pretending my mom’s harsh comments don’t bother me, that Eshaan’s jealousy and possessiveness are normal. Pretend that I’m a decent human who deserves good things, that my dad wasn’t an alcoholic who succumbed to his addiction even before he got diagnosed with cancer, and that Nick is nothing to me. That’s what we do in my family. It’s what I can do now.

Nick gently takes my hand on the boardwalk and interrupts my dark thoughts. “You haven’t said much since we left the meeting.”

I pull away even though I want to keep holding on—to him, to us—even when there’s nothing to hold on to. “Just a lot on my mind, I guess.”

He steps closer, and this time, I step back, not willing to let him get to me. Not again.

“Listen.” He looks up at the sky as if he’s trying to find his thoughts, but now it’s like he’s coming up with another practiced, calculated move. “I’m so sorry about last night. I feel awful about how I acted.”

“Why? It’s fine.”

You messing with me and then running out? It’s all fucking okay. Guys get to do whatever they want after all, and women are left picking up the pieces of our shattered dreams and broken hearts.

“It’s not. It was too forward of me, and I’m sorry. I took advantage of the situation, and of you. I would never want to be like Charles this morning, thinking he could do whatever he wants because he has money and power.”

I laugh. “No, you’re fucking worse because you don’t even realize it.” I can’t help myself.

He staggers back like I slapped him. Good. Let me mess with him for a moment. He even has the audacity to look hurt. “Look, I don’t chase after women who are already in relationships or pretend that I’m available for something that I’m not. They know it’s casual.”

“Thanks for the memo. Could have used it...” I count on my fingers for dramatic effect. “Three months ago, dude.” The words are like acid on my tongue.

He’s silent, and it’s even more enraging.

“I guess I’m the lucky exception that you just happened to rope in and then release when you realize you won’t get what you wanted.”

He moves closer, but I hold my ground. “Is that what you think?” I sense anger in his voice, and this time, I don’t even care. I’m sick of constantly having to placate the men in my life. “That I just want to fuck you?” His words hit me like a sucker punch, even though I should have been ready.

Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t want him to see me cry. “I don’t know what you think. I’ve never known.” I shrug, the fight leaving my body. It’s the truth. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

What’s the use in arguing with Nick? What, for this messed-up fairy tale that doesn’t even exist? Where I already have my prince charming but keep falling for the evil villain who doesn’t want me? I mean, not really.