THAT MAN: Holiday Box Set Books 1-5 by L'Amour Nelle

Author:L'Amour, Nelle [L'Amour, Nelle]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Romance, Fiction
Publisher: Nichols Canyon Press
Published: 2019-12-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Jennifer

The Kiss. That was the first thing I saw when I’d hobbled into my office—the magnificent painting Blake had given me for Christmas. Before leaving for Boise, I’d had someone from maintenance hang it on the wall.

Debilitated as I was, I wasn’t prepared for my reaction. My aching heart almost went into cardiac arrest and my good leg went weak. All at once, every memory associated with that painting bombarded my brain. Each one more beautiful and gut-wrenching than the one before. Unwanted tears—hadn’t I cried enough?—spilled from my eyes. God fucking damn it. Blake was back in my bloodstream and knocking at my heart. Places he no longer belonged. I steadied myself on my crutches and tried impossibly hard to will him away. He was toxic. I was stricken by his poison. When I finally managed to settle at my desk, I composed an email to maintenance, asking someone to come by and take the painting down. What was I was going to do with it? Tears flew onto my keyboard as I cluelessly typed. About to hit “send,” I deleted it instead. Sobs shook my body. Thank goodness, the door to my office was closed. I was a confused, tormented, blubbering mess.

I seriously don’t know how I made it through the next couple of days. I woke up, went to work, came home, did more work, and then cried myself to sleep. My parents, of course, called me right away, eager to hear how things were going with Blake. Just the mention of his name had my eyes welling with tears. Fighting back the waterworks, I lied and told them that New Year’s was fun and everything was going “just great.” I knew if I told them what had happened, they’d freak and be on the first plane to LA. As much as I craved a hug from my mom and another from my dad, I needed time to sort through my emotions and gain some form of composure.

“Honey, you don’t sound like yourself,” commented my perceptive, overprotective mother.

“I’m just tired, Mom,” I replied. “I’m working very hard on a presentation. If you don’t hear from me this week, that’s why.” With an exchange of “I love you,” we ended the call. The tears that were threatening trickled down my face. Blake had promised my father he wouldn’t hurt me, but he had.

I couldn’t snap out of my depression. I had restless nights and barely ate a thing. By Wednesday, I noticed my skirts were getting loose on me. I was losing weight, something I didn’t need to do. Libby was concerned about my well-being and offered to take me out for dinner with Chaz night after night. I declined, telling her that I had too much work. That was partly the truth, but there was more. I just couldn’t. I wasn’t in the mood and I would be terrible company. What a shit way to start the New Year. I was irreconcilably miserable.

Being on crutches didn’t help either.

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