now that we don't talk [tom blyth]

27.

The last thing I expected when I stepped out of the elevator and into the Variety office was to have 50 pairs of eyes darting straight to me. I felt a pit in my stomach, a feeling of anxiety bubbling low in my gut as Mia grabbed my arm and pulled me into the nearest office and slamming the door shut.

Through the glass, everyone's eyes remained on me, now whispering to one another and exchanging pitiful glances with their coworkers. I frantically looked around the room before I caught eyes with Mia, who had a look of remorse in her eyes.

"What's going on?" I whispered, stepping back from Mia, my frantic arms finding the chair and placing myself in it, my bag by my side. Mia didn't answer, just moving to the desk and typing on the computer.

"What the fuck is going on Mia?" My voice was raised slightly, though only audible to myself and her. She didn't meet my eyes, still typing away on the computer. I felt the blood rush to my face. I stood up, storming over to the desk and slamming my hands down.

"What the fuck is going on?" Mia slowly met my eyes, her glazed over as she turned the computer around to face me.

My eyes scanned the screen slowly, taking it all in. My anger had subsided and was replaced with a sickly feeling deep in my stomach. All the strength I had was gone as I felt my knees start to go weak and struggle to hold me up. My breathing laboured, my ears ringing and only just picking up the faint 'I'm sorry' from Mia before I scrambled to find my bag and storm out of the room.

All 50 pairs of eyes found me again as I made my way to the elevator, feeling their empathetic stares as I muttered silent prayers that the lift would hurry up before the ground swallowed me whole. Thankfully, it was still there from dropping me off and I press the close door button several times, not making eye contact with anyone around me.

The cold, New York air struck me as I stepped out of the building but making no impact, as my blood was still boiling from before. I rushed home as soon as I could possibly get there, holding back the tears that so desperately wanted to fall. I held off until the front door of my apartment slammed shut and I fell to the floor. My head fell between my knees as heavy sobs took over my body.

Photos of Tom with his arm wrapped around a tiny, blonde girl has filled the screen, followed by an email from my boss announcing my resignation, one that I wasn't even aware of.

I knew that in my inbox would be something from her reminding me that dating those we report on is not acceptable and will result in an investigation, but it seemed she had done the investigating already without my knowledge, and decided to fire me, or resign me I guess.

My apartment was cold, dark, matching exactly how I felt and making it almost a million times worse. I wanted to call Tom, but he was also the last person I wanted to speak to, and maybe the last person I wanted to see.

I trusted him. I gave him everything I had all over again, for the second time. I believed it would all be different. I hadn't heard from him since New Year's Eve when he told me he was going out with some childhood friends. I had told him to have a good time and a good night and how much I missed him. That message sat delivered and unread by him for a couple of days now, and although I knew I was meant to pick him up from the airport in 2 days, it sure as hell wasn't happening anymore.

By the time I hauled myself from the floor by the front door to my bedroom, the sickly feeling had gone to my head and I found myself curled in bed, quiet sobs filling the quiet of my room. I wanted to call someone, anyone, and just cry about how much my perfect little life had fallen apart in just a couple of days.

I knew dating Tom was a risky game with my job, and whilst I had faith they would never find out, the realistic part of me knew it was only due time. I had accepted that, knowing that I could find myself another job eventually, just in another field of journalism, like fashion or something, and Tom and I could live happily ever after. The last thing I had expected was to lose my job and find out my boyfriend had cheated on me in the same day. It felt like I had lost my job for nothing.

My phone rung from beside me and I just prayed that it was literally anyone but him. When I flipped my phone over, Mia's name was plastered on the screen and a sigh of relief escaped my lips.

"Honey I am so so sorry," her voice was soft when I answer the call and it almost made the tears start all over again.

"It's okay," I whispered back, rolling onto my back and settling into the pillow.

"I only found out this morning. I felt better if I showed you or something," and I nodded in agreeance with her, though she couldn't see. I didn't want to imagine how heartbroken I would have been seeing all that on my own.

Mia went on to explain that one of the guys on our team had been sent the photos from a UK journalism company, offering sale of them before they were published. He declined the sale, but sent them to Mia so she could show me.

"So everyone in the office only knew I had been fired?"

She sighed, "Word got out about the pictures. Shit spreads like wildfire there, you know that," and I did.

I remember when one of the girls in the music team had slept with her superior. Within 2 days, the whole office knew about it and it was the topic of conversation for months after they both left down the elevator. Ironic enough that a journalism company is an expert at gossiping.

"Do you need anything?" Mia's soft voice broke the silence. I sighed.

"A new boyfriend, a new job, a new life, maybe a new heart because mine is broken," she chuckled.

"Stop with the drama. I love you, it will be okay. The moment I finish, I will be over with a bottle of wine."

We hung up the call not long after and I fell deep into my bed, thinking about how I was going to bring this up with Tom, or not bring it up at all.

When I had told myself something had to give, the last thing I wanted was to have to give everything. I loved my job, and I loved Tom, and I was left with none of it as a reminder of my foolish behaviour.

I should have never given him a second chance. I should have never let him back into my life, or believed he had changed. I should have listened to all the nagging voices that told me that change isn't possible and I was only going to end up hurt. They were right, I was sure as hell hurt by all of this, and the hurt didn't subside until I send him one final message before blocking his number.

Kira: Fuck you