Page 17 of The Wrong One

It was a little strange to be going to work at MIT after graduating from CalTech. I had crossed enemy lines. MIT were our rivals. We were always competing against them.

“Thank you,” I said and took the espresso. I walked to one of the small tables and sat down. I was still a little early. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard.

The sun was shining bright. The hustle and bustle of people getting started with their day was all around me. It reminded me a lot of my time spent in college. I remembered the excitement of getting to be at college and the stress. I felt like I had the entire world at my fingertips.

Then I met Patrick. I remembered the first time I saw him.

It was at a party at CalTech. He was standing across the room, talking to some people, and he caught my eye. He had wild hair and a smile that lit up the room. I was immediately drawn to him.

He was the hottest guy in the room, and he looked at me. He was a couple of years older than I was. I felt like the sun had come out from behind the clouds after days of rain and shone directly on me. He was sweet and attentive. He was funny and cocky. I loved walking into parties with him on my arm. I loved the looks of jealousy and admiration from the other women. I was the lucky one who got to have Patrick.

I remembered the many mornings we grabbed coffee just like this. We talked about our busy days before we parted ways with a passionate kiss. We were totally in sync. It felt like we were going in the same direction. We were both chasing our dreams and doing it together. I felt like I had a true partner.

Patrick and I were going to conquer the world in our different tech fields. We were going to make the world a better place for our future children.

And then he cheated on me, just when life was supposed to be going well—he cheated.

I pushed aside the heartache. I had to admit, the last few days had been a lot better. I didn’t think about Patrick nearly as often. How could I when I was working alongside Cam? Cam was my own personal eye candy. It was nice to have something like him to look at after staring at screens all day.

I wasn’t going to make the same mistake and fall in love again, but it was nice to work with an attractive man like Cam. We had known each other forever. While I wanted to impress him, I didn’t feel the same kind of pressure I felt with Patrick. I could be myself. I could relax and just do my work. Cam was pretty caught up in his own world. He wasn’t judging me. He had his own shit to deal with.

Yesterday, Cam had been a sweetheart. I had been in the thick of it and didn’t want to take a lunch break. Cam brought me a sandwich and insisted I eat. It was so sweet to have someone look out for me and expect nothing in return. Patrick had always been a tit for tat guy. If he brought me anything, he expected me to dote on him for a week. He brought me flowers and expected a foot massage, even if I was the one who spent twelve hours on my feet.

As I ate the sandwich, I realized how much I enjoyed being around Cam. He was caring, compassionate, and always knew just what to say to make me feel better. I couldn’t help but think how different he was from Patrick. Cam was the kind of guy who would never cheat on me. He was reliable, trustworthy, and had a heart of gold.

Yesterday, we worked side by side most of the day. I couldn’t help but feel the sexual tension building between us. At one point, Cam’s hand brushed against mine as we reached for the same file, and I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through my body. I looked up at him and our eyes met for the briefest second. I thought I saw desire in his gaze. His brown eyes had darkened, and our breathing had stuttered. The moment was over as quickly as it happened.

I told myself I was seeing things. Cam was not attracted to me. He was my brother’s best friend. Cam was like a big brother to me. He had watched me grow up through the awkward years with braces, stringy hair, and zero boobs. I was a late bloomer. I doubted he looked at me and thought about sex. He looked at me and saw the annoying little girl who followed him around when he was a cocky teenager. I tattled on them and demanded they tell me their secrets. Cam was a good sport to let me come into his lab. I knew what it was like to have a project. You protected it. It was your baby. It was difficult to bring in new people, especially fellow professionals. I was doing my best to tread lightly. I didn’t want to stomp all over his research. I wanted to help move it along. I wanted him to talk to me and not worry I was going to steal his ideas. I wanted us to work together.

I sat at the little table and daydreamed about what my future was going to look like now. I didn’t know if I had it in me to start over. I didn’t want to be alone for the rest of my days, but my heart was in pieces. I didn’t have the strength to put it together and give it to anyone else.

My dreams of starting a family were shattered. I truly felt like the path I had been following came to a dead end. The bridge was out. I couldn’t go forward. I was forced to turn around and go all the way back to the beginning of my journey. Unfortunately, there was nothing in front of me. I didn’t see a path.

Ramsey was there to try and guide me along, but I couldn’t see the path. When I told him I was adrift, it was true. I still felt that way. I had a job and that helped, but I was still lost and wondered which way to go. I needed to completely recalibrate my goals and dreams. I didn’t know if I wanted the family and the house with the white picket fence. Patrick ruined that for me.

I thought about the text message from Patrick. I walked away from California without ever really saying my piece. I didn’t cry and go into hysterics. I didn’t rail at him. Patrick chose to avoid me at all costs. I remembered the pain of packing my things and how much it hurt. Patrick seemed indifferent when he did see me on the last day I was there. The man had turned into an icicle. It was horrible.

Now, he wanted to talk. Maybe it would help if I gave him a piece of my mind. If I told him I thought he was a complete asshole, I might feel better. I needed closure. I needed to move on. And it would feel good to get it off my chest. I had kept everything bottled up inside for a long time. That was why I felt an ache in my soul. It was poison. If I continued to hold onto it, I was never going to get rid of the pain.

I opened my purse and grabbed my phone. There were several more messages from him. He wanted to talk to me. His words sounded almost desperate. It broke me. There was a part of me that longed to be with him, hated that I loved him. Hated that I wanted him back. I knew he was bad news. He was going to destroy me. Getting out of California wasn’t enough. I could move to Japan, and it wouldn’t be far enough. He was always going to have this hold over me. Over my heart.

ChapterEight

Cam

The alarm clock rudely jolted me from my slumber, announcing the start of yet another day. Reluctantly, I crawled out of bed, determined to make the most of the early hours before the demands of work swallowed me whole. As I stumbled through my morning routine, the thought of heading to the gym grew in my mind, like a flickering beacon promising strength and vitality.

I forced myself to work out every morning. I didn’t always want to, but if I didn’t, I knew I would regret it during the day. I needed the exercise to get all my neurons firing. I slipped into my workout gear and grabbed my AirPods and water bottle. With a sip of coffee to ignite my fading energy, I left my apartment and walked to the elevator, ready to conquer the world, one rep at a time.

The gym in my building was better than some of the other gyms in the city. I loved the privacy I got first thing in the morning. I used my key to unlock the door and stepped inside. As I pushed through the entrance, the familiar scent of sweat mingled with the clanking of weights, a symphony of determination filling the air. I nodded at the few guys taking advantage of the relatively empty gym. There weren’t a lot of people who hit the gym at five o’clock in the morning.

I headed straight for the weight section, my sanctuary within the realm of iron and steel. I acknowledged the few dedicated souls scattered throughout the sea of exercise equipment. There was an unspoken camaraderie that came from pursuing personal goals in the solitary hours of dawn. I didn’t know their names. We never said more than a few words to each other. We all respected each other’s desire to be alone to get shit done so we could get our asses to work.

Finding an unoccupied bench, I set down my belongings and focused my attention. The familiar rhythm of my workout routine took over, each movement a step toward self-improvement. As the weights pressed against my muscles, the strain and sweat helped clear my head. I liked to be able to go into work with a clear head. It wasn’t easy to focus if I was muddled.

Music blared through my earphones, a carefully curated playlist of metal, rap, and motivational lyrics. The music fueled my determination, drowning out the sounds of the outside world and amplifying my focus. With every repetition, my body felt stronger. My arms were left shaking under the strain, but I didn’t mind. I relished in the feeling.

Time seemed to blur within the confines of the gym. Minutes turned into hours as I lost myself in the challenge, my body and mind working in unison. The echoes of my own breathing filled the void, punctuated by the clattering of weights, as if the universe itself acknowledged my efforts.

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