Chapter 6
Then I clapped my hands and named a fancy restaurant.
"Let's meet at this restaurant at seven tonight. My treat," I announced.
This was met with cheers and excitement from the staff.
Seven years with Gordon taught me plenty—I wasn't just wasting my time.
At the very least, I had learned the art of balancing kindness and authority very well.
Seeing my team so pumped, I made my way back to my office.
On the desk were the personal items the company had mailed over from back home.
As I went through them one by one, a photo of Gordon and me caught me off guard.
We were both in our graduation gowns, but we weren't standing all prim and proper for the camera.
Instead, Gordon was lifting me in his arms, our gazes tangled together.
Even now, I could tell how crazy in love we were with each other back then.
I ran my fingers over the frame and gave myself a wry laugh.
I had treasured this photo like it was my most precious possession—whenever I spotted a beautiful frame, I'd snap it up to give this picture a new home.
The image was still the same, but the people in it were nothing like they used to be.
I carefully opened the expensive custom-made frame, took out the photo, and replaced it with a solo shot of myself. I set it back down next to my computer.
That photo with Gordon—I tore it straight down the middle, expressionless, then dropped it into the shredder, turning it into a pile of recyclable shreds.
For a long time after that, I was constantly busy, working nonstop in Crestmor.
Leslie knew how busy I was, so she'd only call every now and then to check in on me.
Then, one late night, she sent me a photo.
It was a newspaper clipping with some headline-making good news.
It announced that Gordon, the rising star in business, had proposed successfully.
The photo was a candid shot, taken from an angle.
In it, Gordon was down on one knee, holding up a huge diamond ring, gazing up at Cassidy.
I logged into my Facebook account. Cassidy's messages to me had piled up to 99+.
Anyone who didn't know the real story would probably think she genuinely cared about me.
Only I knew the truth—she was the mistress, flaunting her victory after successfully stealing my husband.
I apped into our chat and scrolled all the way up, finally finding her reply after I told her she could have Gordon.
She had sent back a question mark.
Then, a photo of Gordon putting socks on for her.
Right after that, she shot back with a sarcastic question. "Like I needed your permission?"
I blinked, and a wave of bitterness welled up inside me.
She really didn't need my permission.
She showed up for barely half a year and still managed to take Gordon's love away from me—she was indeed something else.
Every message she sent after that felt like she was bragging about Gordon's grand affection for her—one humblebrag after another.
My heart gradually went numb, the dull pain replaced by a cold emptiness.
It only occurred to me later, a belated realization—I was the one who didn't want Gordon anymore.
Once I realized that, the pain faded away. But then, the boastful tone vanished—her messages suddenly switched to something completely different.
Gordon had taken over this Facebook account.
He started explaining that everything with Cassidy was just for appearances, that there was nothing romantic going on between them at all.
He swore I was the only one he truly loved.
He started begging me to reply, demanding to know why I had taken it upon myself to abort our child.
Then his messages got darker—he threatened that if I kept ignoring him, he'd be done with me for real and marry Cassidy instead.
I still didn't reply.
And that's exactly what happened—he ended up down on one knee, proposing to Cassidy.
My finger drifted down the screen, and after that proposal, there weren't any more texts for ages. Instead, random voice messages and video chats kept popping up at odd hours.
I couldn't figure Gordon out.
What was he even trying to do?
He cheated on me when he claimed he loved me, but as soon as I stepped aside, he started chasing after me again.
Honestly, that kind of behavior is just pathetic.
Just as I was about to log out of Facebook, a voice call popped up out of nowhere.
Caught off guard, I hit answer before I could stop myself.
I stayed silent, and so did the other end.
I was about to hang up when I heard Gordon's hoarse voice.
"Jenna, where are you?" he asked.
After all this time, hearing his voice felt strange, almost as if he were just some stranger to me now.
I pressed my lips together. "Where I am has nothing to do with you, Gordon."