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Author: L.T.Marshall
last update Last Updated: 2021-06-03 18:38:24

I help Sarah clean the apartment in companionable silence for the rest of the afternoon, we talked ourselves out and there’s nothing more to say. I have so much to process on my own.

She keeps catching my eye and shaking her head at me in awe. I don’t think she can really accept that this is how I am now, as though she keeps waiting on the old Emma to jump out and throw herself into commandeering, emotionless mode, again. Pull out some tight tailoring and my iPad checklist. Her attention unnerves me, but I don’t want to freeze her back out again, she deserves more. I deserve more.

I keep checking my cell obsessively, but he doesn’t call or text; every time I see the blank screen, I die a little more inside. I long for one of his song emails, a message, anything! I understand his silence, she’ll be with him, he has a lot to think about, talk about; he’s mad at me, he’s overwhelmed. It doesn’t make this any less painful and it
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    “We can talk about this, Jake.” I finally manage, my voice broken and childlike. I want to get up and walk to him, throw myself back in his arms and beg.Tell him, Emma … Tell him you love him.“No … There’s nothing to say.” The iciness in his tone kills my voice completely, shutting down the words I long to let out. A scolding so harsh it silences them. “It’s done, Emma, it’s arranged … Clear out your things today, take the rest of the day off, then report to the HQ offices first thing tomorrow. You’ll work for my father from now on.” His tone cruel … Jake’s gone and only the version who left me on the boat remains, ripping my heart to shreds. I shake my head, a new wave of tears building up inside of me, the panic and hysteria, and chest-crushing pain returning tenfold.“Jake …” I can barely talk through the crippling suffocation.When will this ever

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  • The Carrero Effect   263

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