Imogene Scott The news article is all I can think about as I drive back home. My throat feels tight and I can’t push down the annoying feeling that keeps tugging down at my heartstrings. Damien is leaving for two years. He’s going to Africa, far away from Lily and I. It’s a good thing, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.My prayers have finally been answered.I get out of my car and walk into the building. For some reason, the walk across the lobby takes forever but I finally walk into the elevator. It dumps me on the seventh floor and I walk to my apartment, pressing the doorbell.Ding!Breonna soon steps out, a wide smile on her lips as she welcomes me. “Good evening, Ms Scott.”She tells me lily is asleep so I go straight to my room. I shred my clothes and step into the bathroom. In the bathroom, I throw my robe on the black granite counter and avoid looking in the mirror.I turn the shower on extra hot, hoping the heat would relieve the chill that has settled on me, and climb under
Imogene Scott The next two days, I stay home working on the campaign ad for Kennaway Fine Art Guide. I already told Keith I would be taking time off from the Tech Con project. I don’t go to the gallery either so I don’t have Breonna coming in to take care of Lily.It’s good that way since I’m trying not to see or think about anything that might remind me of Damien. He’s gone after suddenly coming into my life to cause a little distortion, he left. Good for me.I stretch on the couch as I finally close my laptop. Spending two days straight on working on the ad has been exhausting. But it has kept the bad thoughts away too. My phone buzzes somewhere in the living room and my eyes darts around to find it.Lily is holding it as she sits in a corner of the living room, violently tapping on the screen. I rise to my feet and take it from her. She lets out a loud cry so I immediately replace the phone with a squeaky toy. She starts smiling again.I finally slump on a couch and bring my
Imogene ScottMy hands fly to my mouth. Diane is even more striking in person than in the countless magazine spreads and interviews I’ve seen. Her presence commands the room, even though she’s just walking towards the reception desk. She’s dressed in a chic, tailored black suit, her dark hair slicked back into a low ponytail, and there’s an air of effortless elegance about her that immediately makes me feel both awed and incredibly self-conscious.I’ve admired her work for years. And now, here she is, just a few feet away from me. This is the woman I’m up against. This is the woman whose design could very well outshine mine.Diane spots me as she approaches, and I quickly snap myself out of my daze. She smiles—a small, polite smile—and I realize I’m still staring like a starstruck fan. Get it together, Imogene.“Good morning, Mrs Scott.” Diane says, her voice smooth and composed. “It’s so nice to finally the future chairwoman in person.”I swallow hard. Diane knows me? Oh my God,
Imogene Scott I wake up to the soft chime of my phone’s alarm, the early morning light filtering through the sheer curtains of my bedroom. For a moment, I lie still, trying to gather my thoughts together.It’s another day. Another day to try my best to keep the bad thoughts away. Another day for me to remind myself that everything happens for a reason. It’s been two days. Two days since he’s left.I roll on the bed for a few seconds before I finally get on my feet. I reach for my phone on the nightstand, my fingers brushing against the cool glass screen. As I sit up, I swipe through the notifications, mentally preparing myself for the usual flood of emails and messages. But one subject line catches my eye, making my heart skip a beat. “Thank you for your submission.”My pulse quickens as I open the email. It has to be about the ad campaign project I submitted. I never had any high hopes for it to begin with because Diane Johnson is the best of the best and there’s no way they would
Imogene Scott “She stole it,” I whisper, the words barely audible even to myself. My mind races, a mix of confusion and anger bubbling to the surface. How could she do this? How could she take what’s mine and pass it off as her own? I can’t wrap my head around the fact that she actually stole my work. My heart thumps and my pulse quickens. I glance at Keith, who’s watching the ad with a neutral expression. My hands clench into fists in my lap. I feel a wave of nausea rise in my throat, a sickening realization of the fact that this woman I used to look up to and trusted could actually stab me in the back. As the ad ends and the lights come back up, I can’t move, can’t speak. All I can do is sit there, reeling from the shock of what I’ve just seen. And what to do next. Keith turns to me, clearly expecting some reaction. “What did you think?” I force myself to swallow the lump in my throat. “That’s mine. She stole my work.” I rise to my feet and dint wait for Keith to respo
Dear Readers,On behalf of everyone reading ’He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back’, thank you for reading. I know you have many choices. Boy oh boy, you do have many choices. It’s crazy to think how many choices you have. In fact, some people think there are too many choices. Browsing through the endless books on this site can be like feeling hungry in a supermarket. Despite the beautifully displayed cornucopia, you often leave frustrated and unsatisfied. So once again, thank you for choosing to read ‘He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back’.
Damien Shaw I know what you’re wondering. How did we get here? Please enjoy this expositional explanation.A few days ago, I got the offer for IMU’s expansion, granted that I move to Africa for a year or two. I was entirely against the idea because of Imogene and Lily. I couldn’t turn down the offer either.I took the offer but on the condition that I could appoint anyone to oversee the project in Africa. My cousin, Soren, chose to go to Africa in my place because his fiancée just broke off their engagement. How convenient.But I had to go to Africa for two days to set the whole thing in motion. I put my assistant in charge of the meetings with Keith and Imogene. I also told Breonna not to let Imogene know that I would be coming back.I just wanted to know if she would miss me. Survive without me or at least reach out if I didn’t say goodbye. But it’s like I set a trap for myself because while I was away, all I could think about was Imogene and Lily.I left Africa last night and t
Imogene ScottI’m barely able to keep my thoughts together as I drive back home. My grip around the steering wheel tightens and I try to catch my breath. The enormity of what just happened slowly filters into my brain.I’m a joke. To everyone. No matter how hard I’ve worked over the years, I’m a still a joke. To Rita, to Diane, to Damien. They all toyed with me, made me feel like a fool.As I pull up in the parking lot, my hand slowly slides off the wheel. I have never felt like this in a long time. Worthless, alone and broken. I try to move from my seat, but my legs feel unsteady. My tears have dried on my cheeks, and my throat feels sore. The realization of everything that happened.. it leaves a residual numbness in my body. Every inch of me broken, patched back up with Band-Aids—Band- Aids over open wounds.Temporary.Futile.Useless.I fight back the lump blocking my throat. I hold the numbness inside me at bay. The hopelessness presses against my shoulders, threatening to push