18"Max, sweetie, you don't understand." Tasha says as I pack up all my stuff in the apartment. "I've loved him since high school, and knowing he wanted you just as I started to love you, I don't know, I just snapped." I steadily ignore her and start sealing up all my boxes.
"Max, I love you! Be reasonable, baby, where will you live?" Okay, so I haven't thought through this whole moving out thing all the way, but I did find a place…kind of.
Tasha steps in front of me, blocking my path to the last box.
"Max, let's work this out. If you leave, I honestly won't know what to do with myself." Her eyes fill with unshed tears. "Stay, Max, for me?" I sigh.
"Tasha, I can't stay in a relationship with someone I honestly feel nothing more than platonic toward. Everything with you and Oliver helped me realize that I shouldn't settle for what I have. I think it's time that we both move on." I sidestep her and seal up the last box.
I finally get all my boxes and furniture into my new apartment. It's another one bedroom, but the living room is pretty big and the kitchen and bathroom are spacious. Also, there's no mold. That is a plus anytime. I hear my cell ring and dive across the room to get it.
"Hello?" I say breathlessly.
"Um, hey. It's Jackson?"
"Who?"
"Oliver." I hear him sigh. "Max, are you still upset about that?"
"Well, finding out that I slept with my boss isn't a very nice way to gain my trust. Nor is learning that my now ex-girlfriend was in love with him. I'm sorry, Oliver, but I need some time to think things out." I pretend not to notice how my voice breaks at the end.
"Call me." I end up listening to the dial tone. Damn, now I'm completely alone. I enter my room and throw my cell on the floor. I lean against the wall and fall to the floor, holding my head in my hands.
I honestly have no idea what to do with my life anymore.
Three months later I'm at home, face down on my bed, rethinking the past few months. Tasha finally realized that I wasn't coming back and stopped calling. I haven't talked to Oliver since that phone call where I told him I needed time. Ever since then, my life has been the simple routine of getting up, going to work, and then going back home.
Speaking of which, I need to get up before I'm late. I call a cab and half-heartedly grab all my things before going downstairs.
Once I get to my desk, I spend the day editing my articles, going over my sources, and listening to Oliver snap at people. I ignore the looks everyone shoots me, because let's face it, he's getting worse with each passing day.
"Do you value your job? Because we have a deadline here, people, and we can't get that done if you keep loosing your articles! What type of crap did you give me? It's not even edited. Where is the final copy?" I turn around in my seat.
"Oliver, Lisa did have the final copy yesterday, but I misplaced it after she asked me to edit it. Sorry." I narrow my eyes, silently daring him to yell at me. He doesn't even look at me, eyes glued to the article in his hand.
"Fine, Lisa. I want a new draft in my office by the end of the day." He walks back to his office without a glance at anyone.
"You two seriously need to fuck again." Someone says and the entire office bursts out laughing. I can't help but join in.
I go home and have a glass of wine, tie loosened, shirt mostly undone. I jump at a knock on the door.
"Oliver?" There he is, looking frazzled and like he hasn't slept in weeks.
"Have you had enough time? Because I'm driving myself insane." My body literally jolts at how close he is, how his voice makes me shudder. I grab the back of his head and crash our lips together.
"Plenty." He grins and steps in, closing the door behind him. "Oh, and call me Jackson."
That's it. Sorry it ended abruptly, but i'm kind of swamped at the moment. I will come back and edit it, promise. Meanwhile, tell me what you think! Oh, and sorry I forgot to mention it before, but his name is Oliver Jackson. Just in case some people got confused.