Chapter 91


    Jake walks in with a man in tow and I take a sharp breath at his mere appearance; he’s in a deep gray


    shirt, left open at the cor, and dark jacket, matching pants and shades, his face has a little more


    stubble than normal. He looks wless in every way, a seductive cool, confident heartthrob and it


    causes my heart to constrict painfully. His eyes are concealed with Ray Bans as they walk by me in the


    office.


    I long to reach out and touch him as he passes. He keeps his distance, throwing me a tight smile, and


    says nothing; just heads with his male friend to his own office and shuts the door. I feel sick. I just want


    to be alone with him to talk, a chance to exin, apologize, win back my Jake in any small way that I


    can.


    I want to know what’s happening with Marissa. How he feels about it, what the future holds for her, and


    him.


    I sit at my desk and fidget with everything within reach, but I just don’t care. I don’t have the strength to


    be PA Emma anymore. I’m listless, tense, and emotional, and I’ve fallen to pieces so many times in the


    past two days that I could cry right here, in front of everyone, and it wouldn’t matter. I need him.


    My hair falls forward into my face so many times as I shift about, I start regretting this hair cut at all.


    Why did I ever change it?


    I smile sadly as I ponder it; my hair is just another sign that I had been letting go. Taking away a piece


    of the armor, oblivious to the fact at the time. Another small change pushed on me by Jake’s looming


    presence. I tug my fingers from my scalp, I’ve been tangling them absent-mindedly, and straighten my


    back in a bid to pull myself together. This is sheer agony, my nerves are all over the ce, my mind


    anywhere but work.


    Finally, his visitor leaves, and waves me a passing goodbye and friendly smile. I sit with bated breath,


    wondering if I should just walk in and try to talk to him but my courage fails me. I don’t have to ponder


    over it for long, as my switchboard lights up and he asks me toe into his office.


    I hold my breath, my nerves reeling as I get up, palms sweaty, stomach fluttering and slowly make my


    way in, pushing the heavy door closed behind me once I’m inside, unable to take my eyes off him. He’s


    facing down towards hisptop, concentrating, and typing, he’s taken off his shades and his jacket; too


    good to be real, yet avoiding directly looking at me.


    I crave for him to nce at me and smile in his usual way. Hollywood handsome, but he doesn’t. He


    nods up darkly and indicates I take a seat; all Mr. Business Carrero, devoid of all friendliness, acting


    ultra-cool toward me.


    I can sense the tension already. I do as I’m told, still unable to tear my eyes from him, my body


    trembling, waiting for some sign of how this will y out. Something doesn’t feel right, and my inner


    fears start churning low down.


    “Emma, this isn’t easy for me to say.” He gazes at me for a long moment, darkness in his eyes, but his


    face is closed off, giving nothing away. He shifts in his seat so he’s sitting taller and closes hisptop


    slowly, watching me as intently as I’m watching him. I hold my breath, my nerves piquing. “We can’t


    work together anymore … Too much has happened for this to work.” He sounds so cold, unaffected by


    the words he’s just stabbed me with.


    I gasp sharply, as though I’ve been struck. Shaking my head impulsively as I take in what he’s just said.


    I never saw thising at all, and my insides drop with the gravity of how bad this is.


    “What?” I blurt out, dazed, my voice detached from my reeling mind, my body frozen to the spot.


    “I’ve made arrangements for you to go to our headquarters across town, Carrero Tower. To work on my


    father’s floor, Emma … It’s for the best.” He looks away and turns his chair to the windows of the office,


    gazing over New York as if to dismiss me. His bodynguagepletely unreadable, straight, and


    solid, physically closing me out.


    I can’t formte a response at all, gasping like I’m drowning. I can’t breathe. I try to speak, but only a


    sob is forced out. Without any warning I crumble, falling forward into my hands and I lose control,


    crying softly, unable to stop anything anymore, just a shadow of the person I have been ying for so


    long.


    Jake can’t do this to me, to us … He can’t break me this way. Not him! … Not after everything. He’s


    sending me away, and it’s ripping me apart inside.


    “Emma, don’t, please.” His voice cracks and waves over me closely as his armse around me,


    pulling me from my chair. I can’t look up at him. I can only let him guide me around and crush me to his


    chest, wrapping his arms around me so tightly, I can barely breathe. “Not now, Emma … Not like this,”


    he croaks breathily. I don’t understand what he means by that, all I can do is sag against him and let


    everything flow out of me, all the anguish and heartache and pain of thest few days while basking in


    the feel of him.


    I try and regain control of myself, my sobs finally turning to soft tears as I calm down. Unable to think of


    any words to fix this. I take deep breaths and try so hard to be calm again, ashamed of him seeing me


    this weak.


    N?velDrama.Org owns all ? content.


    Finally, with immense effort, I aplish stable, still held tightly in his arms, surrounded by strength


    and his intoxicating scent. Taking sce in the cause of my pain, a safe haven to me; but how can he


    be when he’s told me I’m to be sent away from here, that I’m done working for him? He’s not my haven


    anymore, he’s my destroyer and cause of my desperate agony.


    “I’m calm,” I finally mutter, numb and empty. Lifting my hand to wipe my face, my make-up smearing


    across the back of it, but I don’t care. I want him to see how broken I am over this. I have nowhere to


    hide now.


    The warmth of his breath on top of my scalp seems to move away; he’s been resting his face in my hair


    the whole time, as I was breathing him in. Painfully familiar.


    “Emma … This … Us … It’s toxic … We just fight and feel angry with each other, all the time.” He


    sounds defeated while my head’s screaming at me to say it, to open up and tell him. That how I’ve


    behaved, how I’ve reacted and held back, is all in the past, that I want him to see the real me. I want


    him to finally get through my walls, show him the constant inner chaos of my fucked-up mind, but I


    can’t.


    Old Emma still has control over my mouth and she’s mortally wounded. Old Emma is recoiling in fear of


    rejection, because he is already hurting me and pushing me away.


    He pulls away from me, leaving me vulnerable and sits me back down on the chair behind me. The


    look on his face stills every word I have brimming in my mind that I want to say. So cold, as though he’s


    shut a door and he’s trying to gain distance. I know that look. It’s my look. Nothing I say will make a


    difference now, his minds made up.


    “We don’t work anymore.” He turns and walks to the windows and stares out, his body tense as he


    ces a palm against the ss, his focus fixated outside silently for what seems like an eternity. That


    powerful body, outlined against the skyline, only serving to torture me.


    “We can talk about this, Jake.” I finally manage, my voice broken and childlike. I want to get up and


    walk to him, throw myself back in his arms and beg.


    Tell him, Emma … Tell him you love him.


    “No … There’s nothing to say.” The iciness in his tone kills my voicepletely, shutting down the


    words I long to let out. A scolding so harsh it silences them. “It’s done, Emma, it’s arranged … Clear


    out your things today, take the rest of the day off, then report to the HQ offices first thing tomorrow.


    You’ll work for my father from now on.” His tone cruel … Jake’s gone and only the version who left me


    on the boat remains, ripping my heart to shreds. I shake my head, a new wave of tears building up


    inside of me, the panic and hysteria, and chest-crushing pain returning tenfold.


    “Jake …” I can barely talk through the crippling suffocation.


    When will this ever end? It hurts so much.


    I’m like a bottomless sea of tears that I can never empty. His shoulders sag and he moves closer to the


    window, stiffening, his breath forming a small steamed area in front of him.


    “Don’t make this harder on both of us … Just go,” he utters it so softly, and so surely, my breath


    catches in my throat, stilling my tears as that numb barrier sweeps over me.


    I really have lost him.


    There’s so much I want to say, but I can’t. He’s closed the door on me. Ironically, after months of me


    refusing to open mine and his always being wide open, it’s now shut in my face and locked tight. I’m


    toote.


    I hold on a moment, in the hope he’ll look at me, but he remains where he is. Pensively staring over


    New York, refusing to move. He wants me to go, it’s in every tiny tense cell of his body. I can practically


    taste it and yet I’m frozen to the spot, my head reeling and desperate to say so much, but my mouth


    stays shut. I’ve lost everything that mattered to me … I lost Jake. He’s all that matters to me.


    I stand slowly, limbs shaking, self-preservation kicking in as I forcefully steady myself and turn


    deliberately. Concentrating so hard on not crumbling. I walk slowly, agonizing each step, praying he


    stops me; but he doesn’t. When I finally open the door, I pause, inhale heavily and take a final turn to


    look at him once more; he hasn’t moved. His stiff posture still the same, still emanating hostility.


    “Will I see you again?” it’s an impulsive question, my voice filled with fear and longing.


    “I don’t think so, Emma … What’s done is done. It’s better this way.” His tone is lifeless, empty. It rips


    thest shred of my soul out and lets it loose on the wind, leaving a hollow space, full of fire and hurt. I


    can’t bear to look at his strong tall body, held tautly against the New York skyline anymore; this will be


    myst memory of him and it’s unbearable. I turn and pull the door closed behind me, walk through my


    own office, shut the door which always stood open then I sit at my desk, concealed from everyone and


    break down within the circle of my own arms.