Chapter 66
Monday morning, I awake to texts and phone calls all from Ryan. I’d blocked his number, but each message comes from another phone, totaling four different possible burner phones.
“Why?” I ask the ceiling as though it’ll answer me.
Today I’ll be going back to the office. I’ve grown stir crazy in this apartment, and even though I’m still worried about the internal investigation, I told myself I wasn’t going to skip anymore work unless I was dying.
I delete the notifications on my phone from my idiot ex and get myself ready to return to my job.
“Good morning, Esme!” The front receptionist chirps, smiling while I walk in with my arms around multiple files.
“Morning,” I call back with my own smile.
That’s how it is. As I get to my floor, everyone is bright and happy to see me. It’s odd. I don’t remember anyone ever really giving me so much attention. I stop at Derek’s office before my own, wanting to leave him my information and files with all the information I’ve gathered. He’s in a meeting, thankfully, so I don’t have to worry about what to say, or how to say it right.
I take a sticky note on his desk, slap it on the work given to him, and scribble out a short note.
“D, here’s everything we’ve discussed for Gimble and a few other items as well. -E”
After that’s done, I head to my own office, happy to step into the familiar area, with its familiar coffee scent, comfortable settings, and organized chaos.
No place like your office.
Or home, whichever sounds better.
I sit and see my own sticky note waiting for me on the desk by my computer.
“Welcome back. Take it slow.”
I recognize the chicken scratch as Derek’s, but he didn’t sign the note. Weird. Maybe has something to do with the investigation. But I don’t really care right now.
I ease back into the work, several of my coworkers coming by to say hi and check in on me. It’s nice, feeling some kindness when lately all I seem to attract is people that are just terrible and evil.
I’m still not completely calmed down. A few times during the day, I hear noises from parts of the office that make me jump. Another time, my phone rings and I let out a yelp.
“Keep it together, Esme.”
Until Ryan asked to separate, my anxiety and trauma have only increased. I wonder if that’s because of me, or because of the baby driving my body in every which way.
The problem is I don’t know who I’m supposed to talk to about this. Lily and Annie still have no knowledge about my past. And there’s no telling them without turning it into a huge deal.
Do I bother with Derek? Asking him questions, seeing if he knows what to do for this fear that’s now continuing to bring me down?
My job has already been accommodating my health and trauma. What would asking for help from anyone even do? Would Derek even going to offer me a full-proof plan?
Even though he left me that sticky note, we haven’t spoken since he came over. That phone call interrupting us was the nail in the coffin. And I fear not having my friend in my neighbor boss.
I let out a long sigh, running my hands through my fingers. God. What am I going to do with all of this?
Not therapy, that’s for sure.
I should put in another call to Detective Mattison. I still haven’t heard anything with Ryan. I guess that should be a good thing, but it’s also adding to my anxiety.
My phone starts ringing again, and I jump.
“This is Esme,” I speak robotically, getting ready for whatever I need to be doing.
The end of the day finally comes, and I grab everything that I can bring home with me. I want to catch up with everything and put my feet up. Even in these flats, my swelling is still a problem.
Not only that, but I have to start shopping for Bea. I want her to like whatever I get her, especially since I haven’t seen her and Tris lately.
As I’m getting out of the office, I see Derek walking down the hall with one of his bosses. He’s smiling, and it’s strange to see his entire self so loose and relaxed around anyone else in the office.
I almost wonder if he’s going to notice me as he turns his head. Half of me goes to raise a hand to wave at him.
But someone calls Derek’s name, and his eyes move away from my direction to wave at another person.
And it feels like a knife cut through my chest at the sight before Derek walks around the corner.
“This is what you get for pushing him away, Esme. What did you expect to happen? He’s doing what you wanted. He’s protecting his job, his pension, his girls. You’re just the girl next door who insisted that you shouldn’t even be friends.”
But I told him all that had happened with Ryan. He’s keeping my pregnancy a secret. Is it so wrong to be hopeful? To wish for Derek to fight for me?
“You have enough on his plate. Don’t drag Derek down with you and your myriad of traumatic shit.”
I hurry to the parking garage to get in my car to avoid my tears being seen by anyone. My body shakes at the weight of my own actions, but I know I have no one to blame but myself.
I stick my keys in the ignition, wiping away the tears as I back out of my spot to escape this place.
Maybe this was a mistake. Coming back to the office to feel like things were normal, and instead, I’m rushing out of here, so no one sees me crying over a man that I pushed out of my life.
To distract myself, I head to the mall to start gift shopping for Derek’s daughter. I have a few ideas, but nothing set in stone. I walk the halls of the loud building, peeping into the different stores for different things.
Bea and Tris have a great wardrobe, so clothes don’t feel appropriate. Derek had mentioned that his eldest wants to get her ears pierced. But getting her earrings before the piercings might give away Derek’s intentions, which I don’t want to overstep with.
But I still find myself walking into the stores with children’s clothes. I admire some onesies, daydreaming about my little baby in different outfits, the trace of a smile trying to slide onto my face.
Even through it all, I still wish Derek was with me. Pointing out what kid’s brands are best for the little ones, making me laugh with his stories of the girls. Even promising to protect me from Ryan and being someone I can trust.
The fabric in my fingers is suddenly growing blurry with my tears, plopping onto my hands and the sleeves. I wipe under my eyes and force myself to walk away, my heart beating in my ears.
I imagine Derek’s smile from earlier, clutching my necklace in my right hand as I move out of the kids store.
However, that’s when an idea hits me for what to get Bea.
Something I believe all young women deserve.
And that will guarantee a large smile from the soon-to-be eight-year-old.
