Page 78 of Mark & Don't Tell

“It’s really not. You didn’t want me or her. You wanted this stupid company.” Seething, he pins me with a vicious look. “Well, guess what? You got what you wanted. I’m done. Do me a favor and lose my number, because as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a dad.” With that, he storms out of the room.

The door slams, and his departure is like a bullet to the chest. Agony tears through me, my knees threatening to give out. I stagger to the chair and sit, dropping my head onto the table, trying to breathe through the heartache. The pain is familiar, so similar to the way I felt when we told him we were breaking up, it makes me nauseated. As if that isn’t enough, grief digs its talons in.

And for the first time in a long time, I cry. Ragged, heavy sobs heave out of me. I clench my fists, fighting the anguish, but it’s all too much. I’ve fucking lost him.

Twenty-Eight

DARIA

This week has been surprisingly busy. Monday consisted of a long and detailed product tour with Terrance. I don’t think I realized how many products Good Vibes has. Everything from a feather tickler—yeah, it’s a thing—to ball gags. The thing I’m finding with all of them is that it doesn’t seem lewd or gross. The product packaging is elegant—mostly black and purple—and the care manuals also include QR codes to a website that has educational videos and resources.

Fixing the graphics for the website has been more than fun. I’m surprised I was given such a big responsibility, but it’s not like I’m editing the actual site. I’m simply mocking up design concepts.

Plus, having a task to throw myself into helps distract me from knowing I have to tell the guys I used to date their son. Kai is still out of town, and Vic’s been busy working with his clients. We’ve exchanged some cute group texts, but I find myself hesitating before hitting send.

It feels wrong to carry this secret and flirt with them. It feels wrong to explain everything via text message.

“Hey, Daria.” Terrance appears at my cubicle. “You know it’s lunchtime, right?”

“I know, but it’s almost perfect,” I tell him, making some quick adjustments on my Good Vibes tablet. Frowning, I shake my head. “The colors aren’t right.”

“Maybe a break will help?”

“Don’t come at me with your logic, Terrance.” I shoot him a grin. “Fine. I’ll go on lunch, but only because you’re practically forcing me to do it.”

“Only because it’ll help your brain.” When he peeks over my shoulder, I hiss and shield the screen from his view. “Woooow. Really? After I gave you the assignment, you won’t even let me see it?”

“It’s not ready. If I show you now, I’ll fall apart and maybe spend the rest of the day crying because I’m not good enough.”

He tips his head and considers me. “Is this the tortured artist bit?”

“Torture is nothing to joke about,” I say with a heavy sigh.

“All right, smart-ass. Go to lunch. Rest that pretty head and come back and dazzle the world with your designs.”

“Ugh, you’re so demanding,” I tell him, locking my tablet and grabbing my lunch box.

“I mean, technically, I am your boss. Kind of comes with the territory.”

“You’re lucky I like you.” I pretend to glare at him, and he chuckles. Over the past few days, Terrance and I have developed a fun working relationship. It helps that he speaks sarcasm and smart-ass.

“Wish I could say the same,” he says dryly.

Laughing, I roll my eyes and head toward the elevators, so I can go up to the patio, which is quickly becoming my new favorite lunch spot. Today is lovely, and since the grocery delivery service messed up again, dropping off another full grocery order, my lunch is amazing. As amazing as a sandwich can get, but it’s definitely better than a simple slice of meat and cheese. Also, whoever placed the order likes the fancy-ass bread from the bakery.

I wonder if there’s such a thing as a bread kink.

Pressing the call button, I check my messages while I wait for the elevator to travel up from the first floor.

Quinn

We need to hang out soon. I miss you.

Maybe next weekend?

Date night with Lincoln is on Friday, and I promised Vic I’d go to breakfast with him on Saturday. That’s two opportunities to tell them the truth, but I think I’ll wait until Monday, when Vic will be in the office for some deal the guys are working on. They’ll all be together then, and I’ll have plenty of time to mentally prepare for heartbreak.

“Daria?” an all-too familiar voice asks from behind me right as the elevator arrives.

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