Chapters (88)
- Cover
- Praise for The Girl I Used to Be
- ALSO BY MARY TORJUSSEN
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Emma
- Emma
- Emma
- Emma
- Emma
- Eighteen months earlier
- Ruby
- Emma
- Emma
- Emma
- Emma
- Emma
- Emma
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Emma
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Emma
- Emma
- Emma
- Emma
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Emma
- Emma
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Emma
- Emma
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Emma
- Ruby
- Emma
- Emma
- Emma
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- Ruby
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Readers Guide
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
When the New Year was upon us and it was time to go back to work, I made sure I complained, said I wished the holiday was longer, that I didn’t want to go to work in a boring office. Tom accepted it to the point where he snapped at me to stop complaining. But in my car on that first day back at work, I had to breathe deeply to control my excitement at the thought of seeing Harry again.
He felt the same. I saw it in his eyes that morning, in the way he greeted me. He changed as soon as Sarah appeared, becoming professional and businesslike. It was as though he’d shown me his true self, the one he kept hidden from others. She seemed okay, but was a bit withdrawn at first. From something Harry had said, I thought she’d wanted my job; it would have been a promotion for her. I kept quiet and focused on my work, but as soon as she’d gone home, midafternoon, Harry would find an excuse to come into my office to chat.
• • •
It was more than two months before he kissed me and for every moment of that time I was aware of him. At times I felt myself relaxing too much, and I had to remind myself that he was my boss, that we were both married.
Since we met, Harry and I had been careful to never touch each other. We’d shaken hands on first meeting and then of course there’d been that moment in the lift when we’d both reached out for the ground floor button and felt the spark. We hadn’t admitted to that for a long time. Since then we had been watchful and had made sure we were never physically close. At night I’d lie in bed while Tom slept and think about that, about whether Harry was deliberately avoiding touching me. It seemed pretty clear at times that he made sure he wasn’t too close to me. I was glad, because I wasn’t sure how I’d respond, but sometimes I’d wonder whether it meant he didn’t really like me. And then I’d think maybe he just didn’t want a lawsuit, and I’d smile at the thought of myself ever complaining about him, and I’d be able to sleep.
One Tuesday afternoon in early March, Harry came into my office.
“I’ve just had a call from Paul Heaton,” he said. Paul was the chief buyer for a major supermarket chain and Harry was hoping to break into retail rather than relying solely on online sales. “I was supposed to be seeing them on Thursday but they’ve asked if I can go tomorrow instead.”
I winced. “You set aside tomorrow to work on that, didn’t you?”