Page 83 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

Those words slapped me out of the shock I’d been feeling.

Hadn’t I just been thinking the same thing about Jessica? It felt true for Jessica and the opposite for Marissa.

The only thing Marissa did was make my life more difficult.

“You know it,” Marissa said in a whisper.

I took several deep breaths before I spoke. “No.”

“Yes.” Marissa was weeping in earnest now.

“No, Marissa.” I yanked hard and pulled my arm free of her grasp.

Her jaw hinged open, and a look of true hurt crossed her face. “Yes!” Her voice grew in volume again. “You’re mine!”

I was stuck on one-word answers. “No.”

Marissa jabbed her thumb at her chest. “I’ve done everything for you!”

I said nothing.

“You said you didn’t like curvy girls, so I lost weight. You said you loved investments and business, so I went into investments and business.” Her words were getting lost in the sobs now. “You said you loved sushi, so I said I loved sushi!” Marissa practically screamed the last one. “I hate sushi! It’s disgusting!”

Each accusation hit me so hard I had to step back.

“You have to love me,” Marissa said. “You have to!”

I shook my head. Any semblance of decorum and polite conversation flew from my mind. I only had the truth left. “I don’t.”

“You have to!” More tears. More shrill words.

I took another step away.

“I haven’t had ice cream in fifteen years because of you! I stopped eating because of you! I gave up my dream of being a park ranger for you!”

My insides began to ache, and shame brought sweat to my palms. “I never asked you to do any of that,” I said quietly.

“You didn’t have to!” Marissa shouted. “I did it because I loved you!”

This had to stop. My mind was reeling, and if I didn’t get away from this, I was going to explode. So I spoke to a woman whom I’d known and respected since I was an early teen in a tone that my aunt would not be proud of. “I don’t love you, Marissa.”

She reeled back in her chair.

“I’ve never loved you.”

Fury, despair, and a sneer consumed Marissa’s face. “Do you know that Jessica is good friends with the people at her favorite coffee shop? She’s hung out with them. Gone to the movies. All sorts of things.”

“So?”

“So now you get her coffee every day, and she hasn’t seen them in a week.” Marissa’s lips pulled back from her teeth. “What else has she given up for you?”

I blinked, not really understanding the question.

“Apparently, all you do is make people change for you.” Marissa snapped. “And you’re too emotionally distant to notice.”

Had Jessica changed for me? Had I unconsciously asked her to?

I remembered our later teenage years when Marissa had been admitted to a clinic for an eating disorder.

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