Page 56 of Rush of Jealousy

“It’s our girl time,” I defend, pouting out my bottom lip despite him not being able to see. “We haven’t left our townhouse since Wednesday.”

“What are you wearing?”

“A scowl on my face,” I deadpan.

“Sexy.”

I burst out laughing. “Only you would find a sour face hot.”

“You’re my sweet and sour girl.”

“I’m not your anything, Graham.”

“You’re mine in every sense of the word. You just need to accept the fact.”

“I have to go.”

“I want you to stay.”

“Bye, Graham.” We stay on the line a few more seconds, listening to each other breathe, and then I finally hit the end button.

I need to maintain an emotional distance from him to determine what I can’t live with and what I can’t live without. The problem is, when he’s around, my heart chooses what my brain is too afraid to accept.

For years, I told myself lies. I convinced myself that I didn’t need anyone. People let me down. I forced myself to believe that happiness was an illusion—some made-up feeling to survive. Then, from the first time I met Graham, he lit a fire inside of me from a candle that I thought melted long before he ever entered the scene. He made me believe in the impossible and gave me a reason to hope.

Of course, everything that Graham represented was also a lie. He runs by a different set of rules, where he is the author. He is unapologetically controlling and yet compelling, in equal parts.

He is dangerous and lethal to my already broken heart.

12

I wake the next morning to a series of texts from Graham. One is a picture of him with a sad face and the caption—My entire body misses you…especially my lips. He even has the nerve to accuse me of giving him the early signs of carpal tunnel. I laugh over his playfulness. The next message is an excerpt fromA Midsummer Night’s Dreamabout the path to true love never being easy. I let those words marinate in my head. It has been years since I have read anything from Shakespeare. But that quote is powerful and holds meaning to my own life.

Do I love Graham? I have never experienced romantic love with anyone else. So, I have nothing to compare. I have never allowed anyone to get that close to my heart. And yet, here I am, with a man who has forced himself into my mind, and even though we are hundreds of miles apart, it is like our hearts still beat as one. The separation has only made it clear to me that I am not over him. Even though I am furious with how he continuously affects my life, there is an undeniable connection between us.

After breakfast, I dedicate my Sunday morning to looking for a part-time job. I load the River Valley Connection page and click on the job postings specifically geared toward college-aged students. The tab opens to a virtual bulletin board with openings for positions on and around campus. I scan through the listing and my eyes narrow in on the one for the Campus Smoothie Cafe. Ever since Resa was chased the night she left the cafe, I’ve been trying to get more insight on what is happening there.

And I know Paul is involved. I click on the link and read through the job qualifications and description. This would be a great way to get to know the mysterious man on a different level. I fill out the online application and cross my fingers that I get a call back for the opening.

I close down the search engine and move over to my text messages. I don’t respond to the two messages that my dad sent, mainly because they are asking me to wire him money. Money that I do not have—at least not any I actually earned. And for the first time in what feels like weeks, Mark messaged me.

Mark: Hey Angie. My newspaper recruiter friend wants to have dinner with us over the weekend. Are you still game? This could be your big break.

My heart leaps from my chest. I forgot that Mark showed him my resume and portfolio to gauge his interest in meeting with me. I don’t have very many standout accomplishments related to the field, however I hope to sell myself in person on my work ethic qualities and my willingness to learn.

Angie: Yeah, I should be free. We meeting at Fortune?

I don’t have to wait long for his reply.

Mark: I will send you details this week. I saw you are off the agency’s database. Everything okay?

How do I tell him I was laid off by my dictator boss without raising more questions and outing Graham? I settle for being my elusive self and type out my vague response.

Angie: Everything’s fine. Just needed to take a short hiatus to focus on school.

Mark: We’ll catch up soon. Looking forward.

Angie: Same

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