Which was met with a smattering of half-hearted applause and intensely curious stares. I forced myself to focus on the presentation, but I could feel their eyes on me. They must have heard something. What if Alex, unable to reach me, showed up at the office? The thought made me sick. During a break, I went to the restroom. I had just stepped into a stall when two women from the media department came in chatting.
“Is it true? Did Chloe really get married yesterday?”
“Who knows? Does she look like a happy newlywed to you? She looks awful. I heard Alex totally blew her off. Stood her up at city hall for the third time.”
“So tragic. Get this. Here’s the crazy part.”
One of them whispered excitedly.
“I heard she ended up marrying some other guy who also got jilted right there yesterday afternoon.”
“Oh my God. Seriously? That’s insane.”
“I know, right? Apparently the guy is decent-looking, but who knows what he’s really like? She’s gambling with her whole life.”
“Well, you can’t really blame her. Alex is a total jerk. Everyone in the office knows he’s been getting way too friendly with that new intern at the front desk.”
“Shh. Keep it down.”
The toilet flushed. I pushed open the stall door and walked out. The two women froze, their faces turning pale. I walked slowly to the sink, turned on the faucet, and began to wash my hands. In the mirror, my face was ashen, but my eyes were cold.
“Jessica. Amanda.”
“Chloe,” they stammered.
“The updated media stats for the Blue Sky pitch on my desk in thirty minutes,” I said, pulling a paper towel from the dispenser and drying my hands meticulously. “I want the latest numbers. Double-check them for accuracy.”
“Yes. Right away.”
“And one more thing,” I said, looking them straight in the eye. “The company pays you to work, not to gossip. Understood?”
“Understood.”
They mumbled it, practically running out of the room. I spent the rest of the day buried in work. Only by staying busy could I forget the chaos of my life. But trouble found me anyway. Around three, the front desk called my line.
“Chloe, there’s an Alex Vance here to see you. He says it’s urgent and you have to come down.”
Sooner or later, it had to happen.
“Tell him I’m in a meeting.”
“He says if you don’t come down, he’s coming up,” the receptionist said, her voice strained.
I clenched the receiver. I knew Alex. He was capable of it.
“I’ll be right down.”
In the coffee shop in our building’s lobby, Alex sat in a corner booth. His shirt was wrinkled, his eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was a mess. He jumped up the moment he saw me.
“Chloe,” he said, reaching for my hand.
I stepped back.
“Let’s just talk here.”
I sat down across from him.
“Chloe, do you know I’ve been looking for you all night?” he said, his voice urgent. “Where were you? Who is that guy? Tell me. Did he force you?”
“Nobody forced me,” I said, looking at him. “Alex, we’re over.”
“No, we’re not,” he said, his voice rising, drawing stares from other patrons. “I don’t agree. Just because I was late one more time… it was my fault, okay? I’m sorry, but it was a work emergency. What was I supposed to do?”
“You weren’t late,” I corrected him calmly. “You didn’t show up. For the third time.”
“This time was a real emergency. That client…”
“There’s always an emergency,” I cut him off. “Alex, the boy who cried wolf eventually gets ignored.”
He stared at me, his chest heaving.
“Is this about the baby?” he said, lowering his voice. “You’re pregnant, so you just grabbed the first guy you saw and married him. Are you stupid, Chloe? That’s my child. You should have come to me.”
“Come to you?” I laughed. “Come to you and wait indefinitely? Wait until the baby is born and the man who should be his father still won’t give him a name?”
“We can get married right now. Let’s go,” he pleaded.
“Too late.”
I took out my phone, pulled up the photo of the marriage certificate, and pushed it across the table.
“Legally, I’m another man’s wife.”
Alex stared at the screen, his eyes wide with fury. He raised his hand as if to smash the phone, but I snatched it back first.
“You.”
His face was a mask of rage. He pointed a shaking finger at me.
“You’re ruthless, Chloe Miller. Absolutely ruthless.”
“Takes one to know one,” I said, standing up. “Don’t contact me again.”
