Everything around me blurs as I quickly make my way down the street. It’s the same warm, beautiful Sunday it was when I went in the restaurant with Barrett, but everything has changed.

The faster I walk, the harder it is to keep the tears at bay. I swipe at my cheek while turning a corner and end up nearly running into a woman.

While I’d had my suspicions about Frankie’s intentions with Fred, seeing Frankie with another guy was a complete shock. But nothing could have been more surprising than Barrett’s reaction to the situation. The fact that he already knew, and had no plans to tell Fred is unbelievable.

How could Barrett value the acquisition deal with Voltaire over Fred’s feelings? It makes me think I don’t know him at all.

My mind is a jumbled mess of thoughts so I keep walking, trying to make sense of what just happened. I end up walking the two miles to my apartment.

Inside, I collapse onto my bed. The fresh paint smell still hangs in the air. I haven’t been back here since the day I picked my bridesmaid dress up and discovered the apartment building had been redone. Another thing Barrett chose to keep from me.

I lie there and cry until my head hurts. Until my eyes can’t produce any more tears and the searing pain in my chest has become a dull ache. I fall asleep, hoping that eventually I’ll wake up from this bad dream.

* * *

The next morning, my eyes are red and puffy and no amount of coffee can keep them open. I call JoAnna to tell her I’m not feeling well. I doubt that Barrett would have told her what happened between us. He’ll want to keep everything quiet until his deal is signed.

I text Rose about packing up my things. She responds right away and with no questions asked, has Marcus deliver my personal items from Barrett’s place in an hour. I’m grateful because while I don’t mind wallowing in self-pity right now, I’d like to do that with breath that isn’t repugnant. Also, my tears have been replenished and I can’t stop crying long enough to leave my apartment to purchase a new toothbrush.

At some point the tears have to stop, right? I’m praying for dehydration.

Barrett calls and I let it go to voicemail. I stop myself from listening to his message.

I can’t hear the sound of his voice or I’ll start crying again. Start asking myself how I fell so hard for a man that doesn’t believe people are more important than adding more money to his company’s portfolio.