Page 34 of Every Silent Lie
“Go on.”
He nods. “We keep footage for two weeks.”
“But it’s only been one week since last Friday,” I muse.
“I came back from my lunch early yesterday and found Phillip West in the security office. He was handing over some money.”
I laugh, a light puff of utter disbelief, and slam my phone down, making both Reggie and Thomas jump. “The arsehole.”
“Oh no,” Thomas breathes. “Before you go in all guns blaz?—”
I march out, on a mission, straight to Phillip’s office. He’s reclined in his chair behind his desk, relaxed on the phone, unperturbed, unbothered by the fact his wife’s falling apart. Just cracking on with his life, trying to eradicate her from his. Get rid of the crazy.
While simultaneously getting rid of the guilt he doesn’t want to feel for upending her world.
“I’ll call you back,” he says, setting the phone in the cradle. “What can I help you with, Camryn?”
“You’re fired.”
He laughs, eyes moving to Thomas beside me. “What?”
I don’t repeat myself, joining him on his side of the desk and pulling open drawer after drawer, scooping out the contents and dumping it on his desk.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he blurts, pushing away in his chair. Removing himself from the crazy woman.
“I’m helping pack your shit, Phillip, so we can get you away from all these crazy women before they cause you mental distress.”
“Are you fucking joking? She slapped me.”
“Really?” I ask, facing the waste of space.
“Yes, really. You can’t fire me, you need to fire her.”
“You want us to fire your wife?”
“Yes. She’s lost the fucking plot.”
“Why?”
He recoils, eyes darting between us. “We’ve separated.” He looks at Thomas. “You know that. She’s being unreasonable. Completely off her fucking rocker.”
My blood simmers so hot, I’m sure it could burn its way through my veins and have me bleeding out. “Would you prefer a hearing? You sitting opposite Thomas, me, and the board while we talk about how you paid someone in security to wipe the footage from the system that shows your wife not being aggressive toward you? Not slapping you?” I have to steady myself on the side of his desk to stop myself staggering back with the force of my raised voice. “Would you prefer that, Phillip?”
Poor, useless fuck head looks startled. “No, I wouldn’t prefer that.”
“Didn’t think so.” I shove his stuff across his desk. He’s a bully. I fucking hate bullies. You hate everything, Camryn. “I’ll get you a box.” I walk out, vaguely registering Thomas’s wary eyes on me as I go. What a fucking start to my day. “I need a box,” I bark at Debbie when I make it to her desk. She blinks at me. Calm down. “I need a box, please,” I say, softer, straining a smile.
She magics one from the cupboard behind her desk. “Everything okay?” she asks, cautious.
“Just dealing with one of life’s injustices.” The irony that I’m about to pack today’s injustice into a box and snap a lid on it doesn’t escape my notice as I walk back to Phillip’s office and dump the box on his desk. He still appears in a state of shock, his usually loud, tall presence shrunk. “Security will see you out.” I glance at Thomas who nods at my silent request to call someone to escort Phillip off the premises, and then I go back to my office and sit quietly in my chair for half an hour, cooling off. I close my eyes and rest my head back, seeing my unsigned divorce papers. Unreasonable behaviour. Was it any fucking wonder?
I exhale and reach for my throat, massaging the lump away. Then I send a message that I really don’t want to send.
I have a work commitment this evening.
He replies quickly.
What time will you be done?
