Vacant Heart

Chapter Twenty-Nine

My legs are leaping through the lobby.

The elevator trip up to The Chronicle truly feels as though it will kill me.

Amongst a car full of passengers, I stand alone, a force of pure reveling fury. I'm burning them with it, because the nearer I get to the source, to the person who is the cause of this knife in my gut, this overwhelming pain that has spread to every part of my body now—the true pain of heartbreak—the angrier I become.

I slide past them, knocking through their shoulders to be the first one out. My face is a literal punching bag, my eyes the shade of a fire hydrant, burning in this artificial light. Eyes follow me through the hallway as I bound for my office, more importantly the desk outside of my office.

Samantha stands slowly seeing me coming.

By the wariness on her face, I'm sure it was her.

I'm fucking positive.

"Get into my office," I growl, storming past the desk, bounding through the door. I begin to shed my coat, staring out at the impressive Seattle skyline. The door shuts gently, a sign of submission.

I throw my coat down on my chair, exhaling, attempting to calm down. It's useless. I know it. My body is ridden with pain. It's everywhere.

Because right now, Aidan hates me. He thinks I'm the worst person he's ever met.

"Do you have anything to tell me?" I ask her, without turning. I don't even want to look at her.

Her silence lasts a lifetime.

"You needed to know. You're blind with this infatuation. Jo, you barely know him. This isn't love. I told him to send it to you because you needed to see what was inside of there."

"You don't know...a goddamn thing about me and him. Not a thing. And your presumptions, your interference has caused me quite a lot."

I turn around, lacing my arms together. She stares at my face, showing me why she's my assistant and not in the field. She can hide nothing.

"Jo, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened but—"

"I'll tell you what happened. Aidan met my mother yesterday, spent the whole goddamn day with her. Today, I told him to get my newspaper. Imagine my shock when he enters holding an opened envelope containing information about his dead family, which was nestled so sweetly for me to find on my doorway."

"Jo—"

"You can imagine how he reacted to that. How quickly he packed his things, how quickly he called me a liar."

"I didn't know they'd just leave it on the doorstep like that. I didn't know. I'd have given it to you here if I'd gotten it first!"

"I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T WANT THEM!" I shout, wide-eyed. "I told you to tell them no. And you completely disregarded everything I said. You lied to my face and you went behind my back—"

"Josephine, I'm sorry!" Her face has paled considerably. "I shouldn't have done it. I had no idea the repercussions would be this bad—"

"I don't want to see you," I spit out, shaking with rage. "I don't want to see you for the rest of the day. Stay and work or leave, I don't care. Just close that fucking door behind you."

"Jo—"

"Get out, Samantha," I snap, showing her I'm in no mood for more apologies, excuses. The minute she's gone, the minute I'm free of her, I drop into my seat, and I clutch my head, trying to think, come up with some plan to make him listen.