02: I'm not so sure.

ARIANA

~

Two days later, Ivy's couch has become a habitat I have no intention of leaving.

I'm sitting cross-legged beneath a blanket I've been wrapped in long enough to consider it part of my skin, staring blankly at the television.

Some show is playing.

I think.

People are talking. Things are happening. I have no idea what is.

Ivy is saying something too. I know she is because her mouth keeps moving every few seconds from where she's standing in the kitchen.

The words don't make it all the way to me.

My head throbs. My eyes still feel swollen from crying. My nose is blocked. My face must look like I've gone twelve rounds with a professional boxer and lost every one.

This is the longest I've managed to go without crying since I walked out of the company building. It probably helps that Ivy stole my phone yesterday and turned it off.

Nathan called seventy-three times before she did.

Every time his name lit up my screen, it felt like somebody was reaching into my chest and squeezing.

So I'd cry.

Then I'd stop crying.

Then he'd call again and the cycle would repeat like some deeply unhealthy group activity.

Despite everything, a small, pathetic part of me wants to answer, not because I think there's an explanation for what I saw— there isn't —but four years is a long time to spend loving someone, and my heart hasn't received the memo that we're supposed to hate him now.

Hell, I was going to get married in to him in two months. We'd spoken about everything and I'd started making a list too.

My vision starts to blur at the edges, tears gathering in my eyes but before it can drop, a soft towel smacks me directly in the face.

I jerk, startled.

"I am not entertaining another hour of you crying." Ivy scolds, footsteps padding across the hardwood floor as she approaches. "I know you're hurting but you've got to give your brain some more time to create more tears." She laughs at her joke.

Pulling the towel off my face, I see her feeling the temperature of the coffee she gave me well over an hour ago with a frown.

"It's cold Ana."

"I'll reheat it, later." My voice sounds awful. I shift slightly when she drops to the spot next to me then hands me her own mug carrying hot coffee.

I take a reluctant sip under her watchful stare. The coffee most probably tastes good but I can't tell, although, it warms me up immediately.

"I just finished speaking with Kat." Ivy leans into the couch and sighs. "About the unknown number,"

At that, my thoughts sharpen.

The anonymous person.

Whoever they are, they'd been aware about Nathan's affair for a while and sending it to me meant they wanted me to know. They wanted me to react.

"The number was active for only a few minutes, and it remains untraceable." She says, and my anticipation deflates. "There isn't much one can do now."

Great.

A dead end. Just what I need.

"They probably wanted to ruin Nathan's life and gambled on it." Ivy says, sensing my disappointment. "I'd say it worked."

"The only thing he lost is his job." A deprecating chuckle escapes me. I set the mug down and look back at the TV.

"He lost you. Then his job. Alright?" Ivy says firmly. I shake my head. Maybe she's right. But I can't believe that when I remember what I saw.

"Good." She exhales, then tugs at my sweatshirt. "Now that we've gotten around that, let's get you away from this couch. Goodness knows how huge of a dent your ass has left here."

She laughs once again. My own laugh is more of a huff of air. Her phone starts ringing on the table and I groan when I see my father's name on the screen.

"He's been calling since yesterday." Ivy explains as she grabs the device. "He's worried."

Of course he is. Robert Halberg must be aware of what happened in his company. I bet his phone has been blowing up with calls from the executives.

"Ivy," His gruff voice comes once Ivy answers. "Can you please spare this older citizen some time with his daughter?"

Ivy giggles. "Sure. You're in luck today, Robert."

"Hey Dad." I say slowly

"Oh thank goodness." He says, relieved. "Ariana...Sunshine. I heard..." He hesitates. "How are you?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure." That's the most honest thing I've said in days.

He stays quiet for a moment, searching for the right words to say next.

"Why don't you come home?" He says finally, voice softening. "Let's talk about it?"

I shake my head even though he can't see me. "No Dad. I'm fine at Ivy's."

He sighs. "I understand, Sunshine. Take your time."

He and Ivy talk for a minute more before he says goodbye and ends the call. After that, Ivy leans back and changes stations to catch up on a show. The opening monologue of the show comes with chilling reality.

"Oh my god! What day is it?" I scramble upright, mortified. "What time is it?"

"Friday. 9:23 am. What happened?" Ivy answers, looking confused and concerned.

"Shit." I jump to my feet, wincing at how numb my legs feel, then I dash towards the guestroom.

Ivy just gapes at me. "What..."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I'm supposed to be at work protecting my efforts for the past year from slipping away.

I strip with questionable speed and shower with even more. I dress within minutes, dab on makeup that does absolutely nothing for my puffy face.

Ivy offers to drive me, which I appreciate because I don't think I could take a wheel with my current state of mind. We get to Blackwood Publishing in roughly twenty minutes.

Inside the building, I can feel the stares. I'm painfully aware I've been the topic of discussion for days. I hurry to the conference room where the executive meeting has been underway for some time.

I slip into the nearest empty chair, quietly apologizing for my lateness.

Crawford acknowledges me with a small nod before looking around the table.

"Now that everyone's here, let's conclude the final agenda item."

My stomach tightens.

"As you all know, Corrine's book entered editorial this week." He says, his gaze briefly flicking to me. "Unfortunately, Ariana has been unavailable for the past two business days."

"I don't think we could've afforded to hold the schedule any longer," someone from Production says.

Another executive nods. "Marketing has already started preparations. Delaying editorial affects everyone."

Crawford folds his hands together. "I agree. Which is why I made the decision to reassign the project."

Every muscle in my body locks. "But I—"

He cuts me off. "Delaine will take over the manuscript effective immediately."

My throat tightens and I want to cry. Somehow, I rein it in, forcing my expression to remain neutral while pretending not to notice Delaine's triumphant grin across the table.

Silence hangs over the room before another executive clears his throat.

"What about the Senior Editor promotion?"

Crawford leans back slightly.

"We'll postpone that decision."

A few puzzled glances are exchanged around the table.

"I think it's only fair to evaluate the results of the entire publishing year before deciding." His eyes move briefly between Delaine and me. "Let the work speak for itself."

Once the meeting comes to an end, I'm on Crawford's heels.

"Crawford."

He stops a few feet from his office and turns to me.

"You handed Corrine to Delaine?" My voice trembles. "You know I've spent the last year on that book."

His expression softens just slightly.

"I do. Production was pushing hard. I couldn't hold them off any longer."

My chest tightens. "I—I had a personal—"

"I know." He cuts in gently. "And I'm sorry for what happened, kiddo. Truly."

I swallow.

"But Blackwood couldn't wait."

I look away. "This isn't fair."

"It isn't," he agrees. "But it is business."

He holds my gaze for a beat.

"You've still got Bly. Rosenberg finally turned hers in yesterday. I know it isn't the same, but you've been telling me for months those two are special." He says, scratching his greying beard.

I open my mouth but he beats me "There's still time. Get yourself together, then come back."

My heart squeezes painfully in my chest.

"For what it's worth, I hope you'll give me a reason to regret handing that manuscript away." Before I can respond, he disappears into his office.

A bitter slips past my lips. Within two days, I've lost everything I considered important. Personally and professionally.

It's almost comical.

A week ago, I knew what my future looked like. It never occurred to me that one day I'd wake up to find it gone.

I stand there for another moment before forcing myself to walk away.