Chapter 1

In the sixth year of my secret relationship with Kirk, I broke up with him.

He leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window in his office as if he'd just heard a joke.

"All because I didn't approve your Thanksgiving leave?"

"Olive, your annual review is coming up. You're seriously thinking about taking time off now?"

"First of all, it's not a vacation," I said, looking at him. "I'm going home to take my mom to see a doctor."

"And I wasn't even scheduled to work over Thanksgiving in the first place."

I'd told him all of this on the way to work, over lunch, and again after work.

But he never remembered.

When I met his mocking gaze, I suddenly felt too tired to explain anymore.

"Kirk, are you always this harsh with people?"

He frowned. "What are you getting at now?"

I smiled and answered my own question.

"Actually, no. You're pretty nice to Cathy, the new intern. You're nice to the board. You're nice to the other partners at your level."

Kirk's expression darkened.

"Olive, why are you dragging her into this? I'm harder on you because it's for your own good."

"No."

The corner of my mouth twitched.

"From now on, you don't need to do anything for my own good."

...

The office fell deathly silent.

He took a deep breath.

"I said I'd approve your leave and then didn't. That was my fault."

"But you're at a critical point for your promotion. I'm doing this for you."

I looked at him, my voice steady.

"If you're doing it for me, then give me the Thanksgiving leave slot."

He froze for a moment and looked away.

"I already gave it to Cathy."

"She's young and just moved to New York. She said she wanted to get away for the holiday."

I'd already guessed the answer.

But hearing him say it still hurt.

Kirk reached for me.

I stepped back, avoiding his hand.

He sighed softly, speaking as though he were soothing an unreasonable child.

"Olive, your annual review is right after Thanksgiving. Taking time off now won't look good."

"You don't want six years of hard work to go to waste, do you?"

He stepped closer, softening his voice.

"After Christmas, you can take a few days off and have a proper vacation, okay?"

His thumb brushed the back of my hand, half soothing, half flirtatious.

"Haven't you always wanted us to go public? Once you get this promotion, we'll tell everyone."

"Kirk."

"Yeah?"

"Do you know why I need these specific days off?"

The softness disappeared from his eyes, replaced by impatience.

"Olive, I'm doing this for you."

"You're getting older. Your upward mobility is already limited. Instead of competing with Cathy over some vacation, you should focus on your career."

"How does it look, fighting with a young girl over this?"

I stared at him.

Then, suddenly, I felt calm.

"Kirk, my mom is sick. I want to take her to the doctor."

He froze.

In that instant, the anger churning inside me vanished.

It wasn't forgiveness.

It was a coldness that came from no longer caring.

"I told you on the way to work. I told you over lunch. I told you in your car after work."

"You even promised me."

"I told my mom I'd come home for Thanksgiving and take her to the hospital. She was so happy she couldn't sleep for nights. She said she and Dad were going to pick me up at the station."

"I bought the tickets. I made the doctor's appointment. I booked the hotel."

I remembered my mother's disappointed face when I'd called earlier to tell her I couldn't get the time off.

Even then, she'd smiled.

"It's okay. You're so busy in New York. Just remember to eat properly."

Dad had forced a lighthearted tone.

"I washed the pickup especially for you. Guess I'll just take it for a drive myself."

My voice finally trembled.

"Kirk, you made me look like a joke."

Kirk stood there.

After a long silence, he said quietly, "Olive, I didn't think that far."

I cut him off.

"My reason for requesting leave was written clearly on the form."

"It's not that you didn't think about it. You just never cared enough about me to remember."

He was silent for a long time.

"Go home and get some rest. I'll figure something out about your leave."

After saying that, he watched my face.

As if he expected me to do what I always did—turn away with tears in my eyes and wait for him to comfort me.

Instead, I turned around, went into the bedroom, and started packing.