Page 10 of Three Sweet Nothings (The Blindfold Club)

I took notes, fueled by rage, and pretended I wasn’t thinking about the asshole across from me in the gray suit, or how I wanted to strangle him with his perfect tie. The marriage was breaking down due to irreconcilable differences. The couple was frosty, but cordial. Or maybe it was the open hostility between Kyle and me overshadowing it all.

I stayed silent during the meeting. It didn’t appear to be a contentious divorce, and everyone was civil until the final moments.

“Alimony,” Kyle said, flipping to a new page in his pad.

Henry looked offended. “What my client has offered is more than fair.”

“To who? Your client? He just signed a contract for twenty-seven million over the next six years.”

The wife drew in a deep breath, signaling her discomfort. She appeared uneasy about the money, but I pushed it from my mind. My focus was on our client, not Kyle’s.

It was the first time Mr. Crawford spoke in the meeting. “Nene.”

Her gaze went to her soon-to-be-ex-husband. “Don’t, Tariq. I hate that nickname.”

“Since when?”

She made a face. “Since always.”

“I’m going to be sending over a revised figure,” Kyle said to Henry. “It’s reasonable.” There was a threat laced in his words. Don’t push back, or I’ll hit you hard. I knew Kyle well enough to believe he’d do it. Should I warn my colleague not to challenge him? I hadn’t worked much with Henry, but I was fairly certain he’d be decimated if he went head-to-head with my ex-boyfriend.

When the meeting was over, I packed up my things as quickly as possible. It’d be poor professionalism to flip Kyle the bird, so I’d need to make a run for the elevator bank before that happened. The risk grew greater every second I remained in his presence.

“Ruby.” The irritatingly sexy voice caused me to hesitate. “Do you have a minute?”

I shook my head and jammed my tablet into my bag. No, I didn’t have a minute. He’d had five long years to talk to me; my phone number hadn’t changed. I was done giving him my time. I slung my briefcase strap over my shoulder as I stood. C’mon, Henry. Move your ass! My middle finger itched to raise up and announce how I thought Kyle was number one—a number one asshole.

His voice was surprisingly forceful. “Ruby, a word.”

“Yeah? How about fuck you.” It burst out from me and detonated in the room, blanketing us in horrifying silence right after the Crawfords joint gasp.

“Well,” Kyle said, grimacing, “that was actually two words.”

I expected him to volley a barb at me or turn to Henry and demand I apologize, but he said nothing. As I hurried toward the door, I had the fleeting thought Kyle might chase after me, but I cursed myself for being stupid. He wasn’t any good at goodbyes. He’d made it oh-so-clear how silence was his favorite way to go.

“Jesus Christ, Ruby,” Henry groaned as soon as the elevator doors shut, sealing me in with him and Tariq. I sank down into my shame faster than the elevator car could carry us to the ground level. “What the hell?”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t prepared to see him. My temper got the better of me, and I promise it won’t happen again.”

It was quiet for a moment, and I watched the numbers change as we descended. The elevator car was stifling.

“What’d he do to you?” Tariq asked quietly.

Was he being polite, or genuinely curious? I was so scattered, I felt compelled to answer, only . . . How did I do that?

“We were together for almost a year, and then he . . . vanished.” It was a massive oversimplification, but it would do. I’d been in love with Kyle, and although he was never able to say the words back to me, I’d believed he loved me, too. Boy, was I naïve.

He was a year older than I was and about to start his final year of law school when I’d bumped into him at Randhurst University’s bookstore. We’d both reached for the same textbook, and the moment was still so vivid. I still remembered how excited I’d been when he struck up a conversation. How thrilled I’d been when he asked for my phone number. Well, he’d more or less demanded it, but I didn’t need much persuasion. He was smart, and funny, and holy fuck, gorgeous.

Our relationship had been wild and amazing. We clicked on every level, or so I thought. Conversation, politics, and the two of us in the bedroom? Oh yes, we definitely were in sync there.

When his job offer from the firm in New York came in, it thrust us into a strange territory. I couldn’t leave law school with only one year left and follow him, and more importantly, he hadn’t asked me to. We danced around talking about it for a month as his graduation loomed.

Neither of us were interested in doing the long distance thing. I firmly believed long distance relationships only worked out if they started off with distance from the get-go. There was no way we’d survive an eight-hundred-mile wedge being driven between us. I loved Chicago, and Kyle had made it clear he wanted to get the fuck out as soon as he had his diploma.

Planning to say goodbye to him the day after his graduation had torn my heart into two. How was I going to kiss him, watch him climb into his car loaded up with everything he owned, and leave me? What if I broke down and asked him to stay? Could I survive him saying no?

It never got that far.

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