Page 6 of Implode

He is just going to have to learn that I’m not a woman who can be controlled. I have gone through life on my own terms, and now that I’m not under any man’s thumb, it’s my time to shine. Maybe being single is what the universe is telling me that I need right now, in this very moment. Maybe I can use this time to work on my own personal goals and get myself whole again.

That’s the thing about being with an abuser. You rarely realize it’s happening until you are out of the situation and have time to process. Ethan used his charm to hook me and then slowly used manipulation to control me. I was a fool to stay with him as long as I did. But hindsight is twenty-twenty, and I can’t keep beating myself up over being duped by his lies. I can only learn from my past mistakes and try not to make the same ones in the future.

Ethan may think his threats over a lawyer scare me, but I know he’s bluffing. He is too damn cheap to follow through and swallow those hefty lawyer fees. He just wants to intimidate me.

I pack up my bag, give myself one last glance in the mirror, and then make my way out of the loft.

The drive to HH is an easy one, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about going into work today. Once I park, I hang out inside my car for another five minutes, as I mentally walk through all the scenarios that could happen today. I take three deep breaths and then open my door.

A cluster of several employees enters the building. Just the chance of seeing Nic is causing my heart to palpitate.

Stay calm.

I have rehearsed so many times what I would say if approached. How I would carry myself as to not make a scene. I can’t repeat what happened at the mixer event at the mansion, and I doubt Graham would ever want that type of drama to be present in his building. He’s only recently accepted that I’m a permanent part of Angie’s life. I can’t ruin the good vibe between us.

I join the group walking in, instantly feeling weird that Nic isn’t by my side—like he has been nearly every day for weeks. It feels even weirder walking in with my polished looks. A few employees are doing double takes, and the main security guard almost had a fit when I bypassed some of the scanners until he recognized me. Nic has repositioned or fired nearly half the staff, or so it seems. I’m not surprised. He probably gets off on that type of power trip.

My hair is styled with loose curls, landing just above my shoulders. My makeup is more subdued but done with a new technique the hair stylist showed me on how to implement what he called the “freshly picked” look. The contouring brightens up my face without feeling so made up. I have on a long magenta dress with matching pump heels. In this moment, I feel like I can conquer whatever life has to offer me—the good or the bad.

I refuse to hang my head. I refuse to hide in a corner. I walk to the elevator banks and press the call button. When I get up to the floor that houses Plus None, I’m eager to start the workday. Today is the day our new hires arrive, and it is a momentous occasion because it suggests to the world that we are a legitimate start-up company.

“Hey you,” Angie says, entering the office, wearing Graham on her arm like an accessory. She looks blissfully happy. Energized. “Wow, Claire, you look flipping amazing! The cut and the style and the…” She gasps. “Holy cannoli! Are those highlights?”

“Yeah.”

“I agree with Angie,” Graham comments, “it suits you.”

I smile shyly, feeling put on the spot. “Thank you both so much. I donated a ponytail’s worth. Needed a change.”

“That’s wonderful,” Angie says, eyeing me closely. “Something else is different, though. It’s like you are a new version of yourself.”

I rock on my heels. “I also got a very tiny tattoo on my hip.”

“What! What did you get? I would have chickened out just from all the needles.”

Graham tickles her sides, making her laugh. “Your ears getting done was enough stress.”

“Tell us,” Angie says between giggles.

“A sunflower.”

“Your favorite flower!”

“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “Because—”

“They are sun seekers,” Angie says proudly.

My eyes fill up with tears. “You remember.”

“I love the meaning behind them. Now when I see a sunflower, I can’t help but smile and look toward the sun as well.”

“Sometimes I need a little reminder to always look toward the light and the things that bring me joy. So this,” I say, patting my right hip, “is my little reminder.”

“Did it hurt?” Angie asks, wincing at the thought of needles entering her skin.

“Not too bad,” I admit. “Blake tagged along and screamed more than I did just as a bystander. At least I was distracted. He kept the staff busy by claiming his blood sugar levels were dangerously low and would request juice every fifteen minutes.”

“No doubt I would have done the same.”

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