Page 97 of Billion Dollar Revenge

An unknown number flashes. I frown.Who could that be…

“Hello?”

“Hi, Chelsea,” Bobby replies casually.

“What do you want?” I snap, as my stomach churns at the sound of his voice.

“I’m calling to ask if we can have dinner together?”

He’s talking to me in a voice he’s never used before. It’s soft and kind. So unlike him.

“No chance,” I say, his words seeping like rot through my bones.

“What do you mean?” Now his voice has a hint of annoyance. The real him is slipping back in.

I grip the phone tighter. Every fiber of my being feels stronger now that I am away from him. “We aren’t together. I’m not interested in you.”

I’m not going backward; I’ve come so far. Slowly building my confidence back up.

“You won’t give me a chance to explain,” he chokes out. “I even sent you roses.”

Is he fucking kidding me? He decided to buy them after we broke up. Jerk.

“There’s nothing to explain.” I exhale heavily, moving around the studio and cleaning up. I discard the roses that he bought immediately. The builders are out to lunch, and they’ll be back to make more of a mess, so what I’m doing is pointless, but I need something to do while I talk to him. It seems to be calming down my irritation.

Taking a big inhale, I decide I need to be honest with him. It may get him to leave me alone once and for all. “You need to move on and leave me alone.”

He makes a disapproving sound in my ear before sneering, “Is it because of him?”

Pausing, I hold on to the Pilates ball that fell from a box. Squeezing the PVC tight in my hands as perspiration coats my skin.Evan…

I close my eyes, controlling my next word so it sounds unaffected. “Who?”

I’m not stupid, he wants me to say his name.

“Don’t be dumb, Chelsea,” he insults me.

I drop the ball in the well of the Pilates bed and straighten. “I’m not dumb. Don’t call me that.” My own voice rises as hurt shoots through me.

“Well stop acting like it, Chelsea. Do you have feelings for Evan?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” I bite back, pacing the office as a new spike of adrenaline hits me. He’s in my past now. I’ve already moved on with my life. “Leave me the fuck alone!” I say, hanging up, happy I got the last word in. It feels like a win. Finally, I stood up for myself.

With trembling fingers, I block his new phone number. But I need to rid him from my mind.

I’m supposed to be having lunch, but I can’t stomach food right now. My belly is in knots. So I walk to take a seat in my back room, which I call my office. It’s not big or glamorous. Definitely nothing like Evan’s grand floor upstairs. The tiny wood desk and chair are enough to do my basic administrative tasks. I begin sorting through the files and booking new instructor interviews. But five minutes later, the distraction is not enough to rid me from the anger of Bobby’s call or the anxiety I feel about the fact that Evan doesn’t want to get engaged again.

I know I need to hear my mom’s voice, so with a heavy squeeze of my heart, I call her.

“Chelsea?” Mom says, when she answers the phone almost immediately.

“Hi, Mom,” I reply, struggling to keep my voice steady.

“How are you doing today?”

It’s the same question she always asks, but this time, it hits me differently. My eyes fill with tears, and my voice cracks when I answer her. “Not so good.”

“Oh, darling, what’s wrong?”

---