Hatefully Yours by Callahan Kelli

Author:Callahan, Kelli
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kelli Callahan Books
Published: 2020-01-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Brooke

I made it to my desk and managed to hold back the tears. I hadn’t felt that vulnerable in years. No guy had ever been able to tear me apart as easily as Trent Rigsby. I thought I was immune to him, and the hatred was strong enough to endure the test of time, but it wasn’t—not anymore. The fact he kept the letter for all those years, tucked in his wallet, obviously read quite a few times based on the creases in the paper—that left me with emotions that I didn’t know how to process. I believed he truly was sorry, but was that enough? The teenage girl that got her heart broken wanted him to suffer. Had he? The pain I saw in those ocean-blue eyes when he confessed how much pain the letter caused him certainly seemed authentic.

I don’t think I’ll ever see him through the innocent eyes I used to have, but I’m willing to let the elephant in the room die so we can move on.

Trent was willing to admit that he fucked up, and I assumed it took a lot for him to swallow his pride so he could do that. I could forgive him for treating me like shit since I started working at Remington Global. I didn’t know if I could ever truly forgive him for breaking my heart. Being able to move past it didn’t erase the pain, nor did it replace the agony I suffered when I saw him kissing my best friend. The fact he didn’t sleep with her had removed some weight, but not enough to remove the scar from my heart. It cut too deep—it healed wrong—it was not something that words could mend.

A part of me was still glad that he suffered. I used to dream that my letter sliced him open and made him bleed. I never knew if it actually did until I saw the words I wrote five years after my pen left the page. Did I want him to hurt as long as he had? I couldn’t answer that question honestly. The teenage girl I used to be certainly did. She felt like he deserved to suffer for the rest of his life. I was willing to draw a line in the sand and say that his suffering should end—whatever he did with the rest of his life wasn’t my concern. I just needed to be able to rely on him as a member of the team and as my boss. If he was genuinely sorry, that was the least he could do. Nothing else mattered between us. It was the past.

Being able to admit that to myself is a good way to make a fresh start.

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