Chapter 2

Two hours later, I finally limp through my front door. On foot.

Both heels have chewed my ankles raw, and my legs feel like wet cement.

I've barely hit the couch when my phone starts going off. Someone has dropped a video from the party into the group chat.

There's Paige, wearing my cashmere wrap, standing next to Grant while everyone whistles and teases them.

"Okay, knock it off," Grant says, deadpan. "You're scaring my girlfriend."

The chat blows up.

[Grant said it himself!!]

[Perfect couple, no notes.]

[So THAT'S why they fought all the time. Enemies to lovers, baby.]

It doesn't take long for someone to bring me up.

[Tessa's probably sobbing into a cheesecake right now lol.]

[Didn't she just say she wanted to marry him?]

Then a photo. Me, bent over with an armload of files, my work dress stretched over everything I wish it wouldn't, my face looking huge from the angle.

The caption:Two-seventy pounds and still chasing Grant. Where does she get the nerve?

A wall of laughing emojis. My tears hit the screen, and the picture goes blurry.

Grant is the golden boy of the office. And I'm the punchline standing next to him.

But none of them know he was the one who chased me in college.

Back then, I was the girl everyone wanted to date. Guys lined up for me, and Grant was just one of them.

He was also the most persistent.

He came from money and had never been told no in his life. I was the only one who wasn't afraid to say it.

I turned him down every time, and the more I refused, the harder he tried.

If I so much as mentioned a bag or a necklace, it showed up at my door. When that didn't work, he started waiting outside my dorm.

Every single day.

Eventually, he wore me down.

He took my hand and said, "Tess, when we graduate, we're getting jobs at the same company. I don't ever want to be apart from you." And just like that, I said yes.

Then my parents died in a car accident.

I fell apart. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, could barely function.

The medication they put me on packed on weight fast, and half my clothes stopped fitting.

I quit looking in mirrors. I started avoiding Grant, because I couldn't stand the thought of him seeing me like that.

He stayed anyway. He held me and swore he didn't care what I weighed.

We took jobs at the same company and started planning a wedding. Then he told me going public would hurt his career.

He said the company had a strict policy about workplace relationships, so we'd keep it quiet for now.

For three years, I stayed hidden. Because I loved him.

Then Paige showed up: young, gorgeous, impossible to ignore. Within a month, she'd taken over the project Grant had been running.

At first they couldn't stand each other. They fought every time they were in the same room, and neither ever backed down.

Somewhere along the way, that changed.

When Paige worked late, Grant stayed. When her stomach acted up, he brought her medicine and made sure she rested.

And on our last business trip, a landslide hit and Paige got trapped.

Grant was the first one out looking for her.

He forgot I was trapped there too.

I called him a dozen times. He never picked up. The rescue team found me and carried me out unconscious.

When I woke up, Grant was sitting by my bed. The second my eyes opened, the worry in his face finally let go.

"Tess, does anything still hurt? I missed your calls last night. I'm sorry."

He looked so scared that I made excuses for him. He'd just gotten caught up. It was temporary. Give him a little more time and he'd come back to me.

Now I get it. Every time he had to choose, I mattered a little less. Until I didn't matter at all.

I finally come back to myself, staring at the screen through the tears still clouding my vision.

The chat goes silent the moment Grant's message appears.

[Delete the photo. Don't take it that far.]

[You're right, Grant.]

The poster replies.Then the photo vanishes.

A few seconds later, he messages me privately.

[Tess, you home? Don't let what they said get to you.]

[I know I neglected you tonight. It's the weekend tomorrow. Let me take you out. I'll make it up to you.]

I stare at that last line.

[I'll make it up to you.]

Any other night, one sweet word from him and I'd forgive almost anything. Not tonight.

My eyes land on the date circled on my calendar. I don't answer.

I close the chat and submit my resignation to HR.