Page 37 of Enemy Boss

Chapter 26

Max

With that, I turn around and leave Cullen’s office. I make sure not to look back as I slam the door closed. I go to my desk and empty out my personal belongings and then I go down to my car in the parking lot. I put all of my things in the trunk and then I get in the car and leave the parking lot. After I have driven for about ten minutes, long enough that anyone coming or going from the office wouldn’t see me, I pull over to the side of the road and let the flood gates open up properly.

I sob, my body shaking as I hiccup and sniffle. I can’t believe that the same man who woke me up this morning by licking my pussy threw me to the curb not five hours later. I mean if I had done what he was accusing me of then yes, I would have gotten it one hundred percent and I would have deserved it. But I hadn’t and the fact that he hadn’t believed that I hadn’t hurt the most of all.

After a couple of minutes of undignified sobbing, I force myself to get a grip of my emotions. I open the glove box of my car and fish out a packet of tissues and close the glove box. I use one of the tissues to wipe my eyes and then another one to noisily blow my nose. Finally, I pull down the mirror over the steering wheel and peer in it, licking a third tissue and using it to get the black smudges of make up off my face.

With that done, I slam the mirror back up into its place and throw the remaining tissues onto the passenger seat and then I take a deep breath. I put my car back in drive and pull out into the road and head for Cullen’s place. It’s going to hurt like hell collecting my stuff, but it’s better than the alternative. Either Cullen will indeed get rid of everything like he threatened to do, or he will bother me until I go and get it and it will be so much worse having to do it with him there. At least this way, I can grab everything in private and not worry about crying again.

Because I’m sure there will be tears. Lots and lots of tears. God, why didn’t I just trust the part of my gut that didn’t like Cullen in the first place? At least if this had happened when I didn’t like him, it would have just pissed me off rather than hurt me.

I arrive at his house and get out of my car. I go to the front door and let myself in, and the first painful pang gets me. It will be the last time I am able to do that. I push the sadness aside and begin to work my way through the house collecting up my stuff. There isn’t much downstairs – a couple of DVDs and a book. Most of it is upstairs because it’s stuff like clothes, makeup, toiletries etc. To be honest, if it wasn’t for the fact the makeup is all Mac, Dior and Estee Lauder and cost me a small fortune, I would have just left my stuff behind, but if I am going to make the effort to collect my makeup, I might as well collect everything while I’m here anyway.

I go upstairs with the DVDs and the book and first of all, I go into the spare bedroom and retrieve the small suitcase I used to bring all of this stuff over in the first place. I go to the bedroom and fight the urge to cry when I smell the sex on the air. It is the smell of Cullen and me mixed together, and it is the last time I will ever smell it.

“No,” I say out loud as tears tickle my eyes again. “Fuck this shit. Cullen did this not me and I bet he’s not sitting in the office crying over me, so I’m not going to waste another second crying over him.”

I nod my head to emphasize my no doubt empty words and then I focus on going about the room collecting and folding my clothes and then placing them in the suitcase. I grab my dirty clothes back out of the hamper and then I go through to the bathroom and collect everything of mine from in there too. I think I have everything, and I do a quick sweep to double check I haven’t overlooked anything.

I’m glad I do that last sweep because I find my cellphone charger still plugged in on my side of the bed – except it’s not my side of the bed anymore, its now just the side of the bed that Cullen doesn’t sleep on. I wrench the charger out of the socket as though it has somehow been the thing to offend me, and I drop it into my little suitcase. The only thing I could think of at the moment that could make me feel even worse would be to get home and not be able to charge my cellphone when it needed it and know my charger had likely been thrown away.

I zip my suitcase up and look around the bedroom one last time. I suppose it was good while it lasted, and nothing good can last forever, or some equally mushy bullshit. Why can’t it last forever? Other people seem to be able to find happiness and have their relationships last all of their lives. What have I done to deserve my car crash of a love life?

My first serious boyfriend abuses me and then the next one accuses me of all sorts of crap and tosses me away like trash without even considering there is something else happening here. God what’s next? Will I end up dating a death row inmate? A serial killer looking for his next victim?

Fuck it. I’m going to be a lesbian. Except I don’t fancy women. Ok, I’ll just be celibate then. At least then I will literally have no one to blame but myself if I am not happy and fulfilled. Maybe that is the way forward. After all, it seems like that’s what the universe wants for me and what the universe wants, it gets, so why even fight it?

I grab the suitcase and go back down the stairs. and I step out of Cullen’s door for the last time. I debate leaving it open, but I decide against it for three reasons. One, it’s petty as fuck and he thinks badly enough of me as it is without being able to add petty to the list. Two, he will obviously know I’m responsible if he comes home from work to find his place burgled or trashed. He might even think I did it myself out of spite. And I have seen first hand how he refuses to believe me when I tell him I didn’t do something. And three, well, it’s a damned nice neighborhood. It would be a waste of time. It’s not the sort of place where an opportunist thief might see an open door and do their worst. Here, a neighbor is likely to see that the door has been left open and come and shut it for him.

I lock the door before I can change my mind and put the key through the letter box. Either he will find it, or he won’t. I don’t care anymore. Except I do care. I do care and this is breaking my heart. But I know there’s nothing I can do about it. I stated my case and Cullen chose not to believe me. I don’t care how much this hurts, I refuse to resort to begging him to hear me out. I have not sunk that low yet.

I put my stuff in the trunk of my car and get in the driver’s seat. I start the engine and pull away and head for home. I should probably start looking for another job, but I decide to give today over to moping around watching shitty daytime TV and being depressed. I will start the job hunt tomorrow.

Chapter 27

Max

Islam my apartment door and practically throw the suitcase and the bag of my stuff from the office onto the floor. I sit down and then I stand back up again. I go into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. I have a sip and put the glass back down. I don’t know where I want to be or what I want to do. I have to stop this mindlessness though. It’s not like Cullen was my whole life for fuck’s sake. I managed to survive without him for all of those years before I met him and I’m sure I can learn to do it again.

So, what can I do instead of wandering around like I’m shell shocked?

I go back to the living room, and I sit down on the couch and turn the TV on. I flick aimlessly through the channels, not expecting much considering it is a weekday afternoon. I settle for a rerun of Friends. When is there ever not a rerun of Friends somewhere? I lay back and put my feet up. I need to let Harriet know what has happened and I get back up and go and get my purse. I get comfy again and dig my cellphone out of my purse. I would rather talk to Harriet, but I know I can’t call her right now because I know she’s at work so instead, I write a message out to her so she can read it when she finishes work. Once she does, I’m sure she will call me.

“I know you’re at work and you can’t talk so don’t worry, I just need to get this out. Cullen and I broke up. Oh, and he fired me. I don’t really know what the fuck happened, except someone did something and he thinks it was me and he didn’t believe me when I said it wasn’t me. I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense out of context, but it will take too long to write it all out. I’ll talk to you once you’re done with work for tonight and fill you in properly.”

I read back over my text message. I know she won’t fully understand what I mean but I can’t be bothered to change it and so I hit send. I put my cellphone down on the coffee table and try to concentrate on Friends. Luckily, I’ve seen it enough times to follow it without taking much notice because I can’t make myself think about anything other than Cullen and the way he looked at me when he asked how I could betray him like that. He had been angry yes, but it was more than that. He looked completely broken.

Oh no, don’t even go there, I think to myself. You are not going to get yourself to a place where you end up feeling sorry for him.

I swing my feet around and stand up abruptly. I grab the suitcase and the bag I dumped near the door, and I go through to my bedroom and unpack all of my things. I strip off my work clothes and hang them up too – after all I’ve hardly had them on for more than an hour or two. I go to the bathroom and get in the shower.

I make no effort to wash my hair or my body. I’m already clean. I just stand under the spray and cry. I remember Cullen promising to never hurt me, and I know he meant physically, and he hasn’t done that, but I really think a black eye would have hurt less than him thinking I was lying to him, especially with what it was about. He seriously thought I would do that just to get ahead in my career. I thought Cullen was my soulmate, that he knew me better than I knew myself almost. But for him to believe such terrible things about me, it means that in reality, he never really knew me at all and that hurts so much I don’t know if I will ever truly recover from it.

I have to though. Or at least I have to stop crying. I’m not this person who mopes around and feels sorry for myself. But this feels different. It’s not just that I’ve lost Cullen, but I’ve lost my job and my integrity too. And the worst thing about it all is that I didn’t even fucking do anything wrong, and I don’t know who did and why they wanted to blame me on it.

I’ve stood in the shower long enough that I have stopped crying and I get out and put a towel around my hair and put my robe on. I brush my teeth and then I towel dry my hair off and go to the bedroom. I lay on my bed for five minutes while my robe dries me off and then I get dressed in a pair of navy blue leggings and a yellow blouse. I comb my hair and return the robe to the bathroom. I go back out to the living room where the next episode of Friends is playing.

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