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Fuck.
I scanned through the messages, frowning as the tone went from concerned to annoyed. He wasn’t exactly being rude, but they were shitty enough that by the time I moved on to the voicemails, I was ready to give him a piece of my mind when I called him back.
The first couple voicemails were similar to the texts, full of worry about why I hadn’t come to work or let him know where I was. With every new one, my heart sank, and my stomach churned. Then I reached the last.
Miss McNiven, as you have failed to show courtesy and respect toward your job, or to me, there is no need to contact me. You are in breach of contract, and your employment has been terminated. Your things will be delivered to your apartment. Should you have any questions, please contact my lawyer to discuss the penalties for breaking your contracts. Good day.
What. The. Fuck.
I stared at my phone as if that would make it less awful. Okay, I’d made a mess of things by not calling him before I left, for certain, but he hadn’t even given me the benefit of the doubt for twenty-four hours. Apparently, if I wasn’t in the hospital, then whatever reason I could have had for not contacting him wasn’t good enough. I’d inconvenienced him. Worried him. Made him waste histime.
The tension that had been building inside me didn’t break in a flood of tears. No, he didn’t deserve me to cry over him. Not when my mother was lying in a hospital bed. He didn’t know that, but he’d made assumptions, not based on what he knew of me, but on what he considered important.
He didn’t know me at all.
Everything I thought we had was now tarnished by the realization that it – that I – had never meant as much to him as he had to me.
A text alert came up from Colin, telling me he’d just arrived.
Fuck Alix.
If he didn’t have the decency to not believe the worst, then he wasn’t the man I thought he was.
My fingers shook as I tapped out a response. Once sent, I would put him aside and focus on the reason I was here.
