A Heart Full Of Love (SLOW UPDATES)

5| City

Chapter 5: City (Emma's POV)

"Oh. My. Fucking. God." I started the car and glanced at all the files in the passenger seat. "Why him? Why him out of all the fucking people in this world?" I asked myself while pulling my seatbelt on. It makes no sense to me. 

I didn't react until I left the building to get started with work and go to these authors' houses but now that I'm thinking about it, I'm letting myself freak out. It doesn't make any sense at all. He was never interested in business, or writing, so how the hell did he end up owning and running an entire publishing firm? Correction, the biggest publishing firm in Boston. 

I have no idea where he went or what happened to him after I left New York. And I know I shouldn't have left the way I did, I regret it too. But I had to do something for myself. I wanted to study here, I wanted to work here, live here. And I thought I could talk to him earlier and we'd come to an understanding, but the one time I tried, we ended up arguing. So, I couldn't find it within myself to bring it up again until I absolutely had to. I met him the night I was leaving. I told him I had to go, I told him I was leaving. 

He was extremely angry at first, then he cried, then I cried. Then I tried leaving but he wouldn't let me. He asked me to stay there with him that last night and I did. And I don't think we let each other go for even a second. And he was fast asleep when it was time for my flight so I had to sneak out. 

I left a note. A pretty damn long note. I don't know what he did with it, but I know he read it. He had to have read it. 

"Whatever, whatever, whatever," I told myself, focusing on the road. 

We have to be mature about this. It's been a long time, four years is a long time. He's my boss now, that's how I should treat him. Nothing more, nothing less. He's my boss, I'm his assistant and that is it. 

"Get to work, Emmy, you—" I cut myself short when I realized I just called myself what he always called me. Emmy, Em. And Emma, obviously. Normally, my friends in school would always say that they didn't like it when their boyfriends called them by their full name instead of using a nickname. I didn't. I loved it when he said my name. I even liked it today when he called me Ms. Bailey, for fuck's sake. He's just a smooth talker, he knows what to say, he's still as gorgeous as ever. 

I stopped at a red light and fake cried, putting my head down on the wheel. "God, save me, please." 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

I walked back into the office building, pressing the button for the elevator. I went all the way and into my own room first. I set everything down, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. I will say, my situation and set-up here is so much better than it ever was at Bloomfield. I have my own room, there's a couch in my room, there's a fridge. This is great. 

I drank some water and then grabbed all the files, heading to the connecting door. I pushed it open with my hip and walked to his table, putting all the files down. I'll remember to wear smaller heels tomorrow. 

He looked up from his computer. "You have got to start knocking." 

"With what? My hands are full," I mumbled, looking at him. I gathered my hair and put it in a low bun. I reached for a hair tie on my wrist but I didn't find one, so I reached forward and grabbed a pencil, using it to keep my hair together. I looked at him, sighing. 

He's staring at me. 

"What?" I asked. 

"Did you get what you wanted when you came here, Emma?" 

I stared at him, shifting my weight from one leg to the other. "What do you mean?" 

"You came to Boston with a goal. Did you get it done?"