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“You had a chance at my birthday party. How long has this been going on?” I demanded, feeling the sting of betrayal.
She stared into her coffee cup. “A couple of weeks. And in my defense, you’re never home. You’ve been spending your nights with Oliver. I barely see you,” she explained, her tone softer now.
“What about my night off?” I challenged.
“One crappy night to hang out? You’re too wound up in him,” she accused, her frustration mirroring my own.
I pursed my lips. “Newsflash, I love him, and we’re not talking about me. How did you two get together?” I pressed, needing to understand.
She exhaled loudly. “Finley stopped by here to see if you wanted to get dinner. He was in the neighborhood. When I told him you weren’t home, he asked me to go. We hit it off,” Sadie explained, her tone more subdued.
“Did you sleep with him yet?” The words were out before I could stop them, a mix of curiosity and resentment driving my question.
Her reaction was instant, her eyes flashing with anger. “You really are a bitch. Why would you ask that?” she shot back, hurt evident in her voice.
I wanted her to feel as bad as I did, to share in my misery. “Because that’s your MO,” I retorted, my own frustration boiling over.
The tension in the room was palpable as Sadie slammed her coffee mug down, hot liquid splashing everywhere. Without a word, she stormed off to her room, the force of her departure reverberating through the walls as she banged her door shut.
I sighed heavily, the weight of the situation settling heavily on my shoulders. Cleaning up the mess, I couldn't bring myself to face Sadie again. With a heavy heart, I left the apartment, hoping to escape the tension that hung thick in the air.
“What the hell is with you today, Ryleigh?” Candice whispered.
I appreciated Candice's concern as she whispered to me, sensing something was off. "Nothing, I'm fine," I replied, trying to brush off the mounting frustration and disappointment.
But inside, I was seething. I had messed up a few tasks assigned by Beatrice, and she had swiftly relegated me to mind-numbing data entry. It felt like a slap in the face after all the effort I had put in.
Candice saw through my facade. "You're not fine," she insisted, her voice laced with worry.
"I'm sick and tired of doing shit work," I confessed, the frustration bubbling to the surface.
“I told you that it takes time to earn Beatrice's trust," Candice reminded me, her tone gentle but firm.
“On second thought, I feel ill. My stomach hurts,” I lied, needing an excuse to escape the suffocating confines of the office.
“Go home. I’ll tell Beatrice you weren’t feeling well,” Candice offered, concern evident in her voice.
“Thanks,” I muttered gratefully, gathering my things and leaving before Beatrice could question my sudden departure.
As I walked away from the office, the weight of frustration and disappointment lingered in my mind. I seriously contemplated not returning. The day had been terrible from the moment I woke up, and work only added to the misery. But I knew I had to face Sadie and apologize for my harsh words that morning.
Usually, Vlad would give me a ride home, but today I opted for the subway. I needed the solitude to sort through my thoughts. He had no idea I was leaving early, and I didn't bother to inform him.
Just as I stepped out of the station a few blocks from my house, my phone buzzed. The screen displayed Oliver's face, and I answered quickly.
"Hi, baby," he greeted.
"Hi," I responded, relief washing over me at the sound of his voice.
"What's wrong?" Oliver asked, sensing my distress.
"Everything is falling apart," I admitted, my voice betraying the turmoil within me.
"Falling apart how?" he inquired, concern evident in his tone.
I recounted the events of the past two days and what transpired that morning with Sadie.
"Two days away and you’re already a mess?" Oliver remarked, his voice tinged with amusement.
