“Forgive me, Cooper,” I whisper into the flask as I slowly bring it to my lips.
Thirty-Four
Maddie
SHOULD OLD ASSISTANTS BE FORGOT
Well, I gotta hand it to Declan—no one has ever given me a more useful Christmas present in my life. I only allowed myself one glass of wine at my sister’s place yesterday because I didn’t want to risk getting all maudlin and drunk-texting him after so emphatically telling him not to text me when I left the office. But instead of waking up with a hangover this morning, I have bruised fists.
Worth it. I got out a lot of aggression with that punching bag. But I had to remove the picture of him that I’d taped to it, because it just made me sad, and I didn’t even want to pretend to mess up that annoyingly handsome face.
First he’s got me overworking my erotic massage tool, and now I’m abusing the punching bag.
Okay, I may have also abused the erotic massage tool last night. And again this morning. Because not having a job is stressful. I emailed a headhunter shortly after I got up, to let her know that I’m looking for a new position, and she called me back immediately to discuss my options. She didn’t even ask why I was leaving my current position—I suppose because she has already found jobs for numerous other former executive assistants who have had the misfortune of working for Declan Cannavale.
I went out to run some errands when I knew Mrs. Pavlovsky would be in her apartment eating lunch, because I didn’t want to risk seeing her disappointed face. Declan had come by the building yesterday, and I wouldn’t let him in. She came by my door to ask if she could let him in. When I asked her not to, she was only slightly less dramatic than the heroine of every film I’ve ever seen that’s based on a Russian novel. Now that I’ve returned and put the groceries away, I casually check my phone to see if the recruiter or anyone else has contacted me.
There are a bunch of texts from Declan and a couple of voice mail messages, and I am so mad at my stupid heart for racing as soon as I see the notifications. I’m so furious with my idiot stomach butterflies for taking flight as I open up the texts.
DECLAN: Hi. I know you said not to bother texting you, and even though you are the boss of me, I have never been good at letting someone else have the last word. There is one thing and one thing only that I should have said to you yesterday, Maddie… I
That’s it. He just wrote “I.” Like that’s what he should have said to me yesterday. As if every single thing he said wasn’t about him.
DECLAN: Also, what you said about me and hands was right. I don’t want to be like that anymore. You deserve better.
I mean. I think he may have meant “me and Hannah,” but it’s the “You deserve better” part that concerns me, since that has historically been code for “I’ve met someone else, so let’s take a break and start seeing other people.” The time stamp for the next text is about half an hour later.
DECLAN: Cooper. I miss you all. I done know if I deserve forgive but please give me another change. I’ll do anyway.
I want to laugh because he’s obviously drunk, but I also wouldn’t put it past him to ask me to change for him. Or maybe he wants me to loan him some quarters.
Then I listen to the voice mails. The first one is just Declan singing the first half of “My Heart Will Go On” into the phone before getting cut off. I can hear a bunch of grown men yelling the words to a Beastie Boys song in the background. It’s an aural fustercluck.
The next message is probably a pocket dial. At least I hope it is. I can hear a bunch of guys singing the Meatloaf song “I’d Do Anything for Love,” and Declan is singing the girl’s part.
After listening to those messages again, I find another text notification.
DECLAN: Copppperrrrr. Please done be Maddie at me. I never fell like thish around anyone before. I ducked up. I wished yo were here. I ned young. Brb <kissing face emoji> <crying face emoji> <nail polish emoji>
Before I can even try to decipher what the hell he meant by this message, I receive another one.
DECLAN: Right. Howya, gorgeous. Time for Dec to put the phone away and join his family now. Happy New Year to ya.
So that’s that. Not that I would have responded. Because what am I supposed to say to any of that? I just hope that dumbass remembered to eat before he started drinking, because he sounded hungry to me.
I listen to the voice mails one more time before putting my phone in my purse and leaving for Sentinel with a storage box. At least I know I won’t run into Declan when I collect my things from my desk. I do, however, run into Mrs. Pavlovsky when I’m walking out to my car.
She looks exactly as heartbroken as I had feared she would when she sees me. It’s freezing out, but at least she’s wearing a brand-new wool coat while sweeping the very clean sidewalk in front of our building.
“Oh, you got a new coat!”
She tears up as she strokes the collar. “Yes. Beautiful kind man bring me yesterday.”
“Declan gave you a coat?”
She nods and sighs. “He seem very upset. But you also seem upset, so I did not let him in. But I vanted to, Magdalena. Ohhh, I vanted to. It was very hard.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I rub her arm. “Thank you for respecting my wishes. And don’t forget to work on your w sounds.”
She pouts and then licks her lips and says, “I wish you
