honest, just as he saw it.
I rubbed one hand down my face, knowing he was right.
“It’s fine. I have the perfect solution,” Mason added. “I’ve already set things in motion.”
Sonia
I strolled to my desk from the elevator. It took every ounce of energy not to skip all the way to work and look like a happily-in-love dope. Because, yes, I was happily in love with the BILK turned BILF—which I did multiple times a day.
I hadn’t told him yet, knowing, once I said it, I couldn’t take it back. A part of me was afraid, of giving myself so fully. But everything with Brad felt so right, so real, so forever.
If someone had told me months ago that I’d fall in love with Brad, I’d have denied it and bet my life savings and 401(k), too, that it would never, ever happen.
But yet, here I was.
Le sigh.
If there were a cloud nine, I was on cloud one million. Every morning was brighter, and my mood could not be dimmed, no matter how crappy my day was going. Traffic? No problem. Schedule gone wrong? Not a big deal.
This was the feeling of being in love—utter, true love. And I was here. In the present, working the best job I had with the perks of seeing my beloved day in and day out, in and out of work.
Tonight, we were having a Harry Potter marathon at my place. I was beyond excited, still in crazy awe that Brad hadn’t watched a single movie.
The stack of boxes placed by my desk made me skip to a stop. I tilted my head, taking in Phala, an intern for Mason. Her stick-straight Asian hair lay by her shoulders. She spoke with a little lilt in her voice, her natural intonation, to match her petite frame and small features.
“Sonia?” Her eyes went wide. “I thought … I thought …” If her eyes widened any farther, her eyeballs would pop out of their sockets.
“Whose boxes are these?” I walked around to see two more boxes on the floor. “Are these Brad’s?” Did he have extra files laying around that I didn’t know about?
“No … I … uh …” Phala’s cheeks burned bright enough to almost rival the red on her lips.
I blinked and noted a plant placed on top of the boxes—her bamboo plant. The one I’d seen on the third floor, on her own desk, by Mason’s office.
An intense ringing initiated in my ears, the kind that I knew would blow up, bomb-style, soon, real soon. Call it premonition.
I carefully framed my next words. “These are your boxes.” My voice came out so softly, I doubted she heard. When her gaze drifted to the floor, my chest seized, and I gripped the desk for support. “It is, right?” I spoke louder this time. “Phala! Are these your boxes or not?”
When she tipped her chin, I exhaled, feeling as though someone had knocked me on my ass, yet I was still standing.
I stared at the desk, the clean lines of my tape dispenser, right by my stapler, right by my phone. My desk. A desk I had spent the last two years working at.
This couldn’t be Brad. This had to be Charles. I’d broken my part of our agreement, and this was the consequence. Or is this Brad’s decision? Did he know? Was he already tired of me, just as he had been of the other women before me?
But this was different. Between Brad and me, it was different. He’d promised. He’d said he loved me.
I swallowed hard, heat burning my eyes. Breathe.
But there was no point. I clutched my chest and rocked back, resting on my heels.
Phala’s arms wrapped around me, hard and tight. Though I didn’t know her that well, I rested against her, using her body to keep me upright.
“I thought you were smarter than this, Sonia.” Her tone was apologetic, sad even.
I pulled back and swiped at my tears. Anger replaced the unbearable sadness as I reeled back, and with a firm voice, I asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”
She twisted her hands and fidgeted with the edge of her silk shirt, staring at her pointy red shoes that matched her ruby-red lipstick.
“Speak, Phala. What do you mean?”
She spoke to her shoes as though the pair had asked her the question, “You of all people know how Brad is. How he treats women. You know how many women have gone through that door.” She motioned at his office door. “And out the