Bedmates Only, Yet He Cried When It Ended Chapter 2

I gave a slight bow in Amber’s direction.

“Director White, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have questioned your abilities or entertained the foolish notion of an appeal.”

She didn’t respond.

As I started to straighten up, Chad’s hand pressed down firmly on the small of my back, forcing me down again.

He leaned close to my ear, his voice a whisper. “I promised her father she wouldn’t be unhappy here. Just play along. Indulge me this once.”

He pushed my waist down a little further, and a bolt of agony lanced through me.

Yes, Amber’s father had helped him once. It was right for him to repay that debt.

But what about me?

Once, I was with him on a site inspection when a piece of machinery malfunctioned. To protect him, I’d thrown myself in front of him without a second thought. A heavy control lever had slammed into my back, leaving me with a permanent injury.

He’d held me then, his eyes red, telling me I was reckless, that I’d almost gotten myself killed. He’d massaged my back every single day during my recovery.

And now, he was pressing on that very same injury, forcing me to apologize to the person who tormented me.

What a pathetic way to repay a debt.

Those ten seconds felt like a century.

When I finally tried to stand, it felt like my back was broken.

Amber gasped, feigning concern. “Oh, I almost forgot! Patty injured her back for you, didn't she, Chad? You’re so thoughtless. It’s not very nice to be so cruel, is it? You might break her heart.”

Chad’s hand shot away from me as if burned. His expression was dark and unreadable.

“If… if there’s nothing else, you can go.”

I bit my lip to keep from crying out, my body trembling.

Fighting through the searing pain, I straightened my spine and walked out of the room.

Amber’s words were the cruelest cut.

There were a million ways to stage an apology.

He had chosen the one that would cause me the most physical pain.

It took a long time back at my desk before I had the strength to take the resignation letter I’d drafted and hand it to my direct supervisor. He’d fought for me on the promotion, but he couldn’t override Chad’s final word.

“The company knows what you’ve given these past seven years. Chad knows it too. You’re still young, there will be other opportunities. Are you sure you don’t want to wait it out?”

Later. Next time. Just wait. Over the years, those words had practically become a part of me.

It was the later he’d murmur after we made love, when I’d ask when we could finally go public with our relationship.

It was the just wait he’d offer after I lost another promotion, when I’d ask when I’d finally have a chance to stand beside him as an equal.

It was the next time he’d promise whenever my parents called about marriage, when I’d ask when he would finally come home with me to meet them.

I had never questioned my own resolve, but I couldn’t change the ending he had already written for me.

I shook my head, a helpless smile on my face. “Twenty-eight isn’t that young. People my age are married with kids. I can’t lose out on my health, my career, and a family, can I?”

He didn’t say anything more, just looked at my pale face and signed his name with a sigh of regret.

“Finish your handover this week and you’ll be free to go.”

“I won’t mention this to Chad,” he added. “It’ll save you some trouble these next few days. Besides, your position doesn’t require you to report to him directly anyway.”

A wave of relief washed over me. “Thank you, sir.”

Just after I submitted the form, a message from Chad popped up on my phone.

[How’s your back? I bought some cream. I’ll put it on for you tonight.]

This was his typical move. A way of backing down when he knew he’d gone too far but was too proud to apologize.

I used to think this was his way of showing he cared. I would even use it as an opportunity to be playful and ask for more affection.

Now, I saw it for what it was: a piece of candy to keep me under control.

[No need. I’ve booked a massage therapist to come to my place.]

As was tradition, there would be a celebratory dinner for the promotion, hosted by management. I politely declined, using my pre-booked massage as an excuse.

But Amber grabbed my arm, her face a mask of disappointment. “Patty, does this mean you don’t really accept that I beat you for this position? Is that why you’re making excuses?”

“Anyone else can skip, but not you. I want your sincere blessing.”

I frowned, about to speak, when Chad, who had just tacitly approved my absence, chimed in.

“Everyone else is going. Don’t you think it’s inappropriate for you to be the only one who doesn’t? Show some grace. As a senior employee, you should be able to handle a loss. Don’t be a laughingstock.”

He added, “You can get a massage any day.”

I froze, a familiar bitterness rising in my throat.

I should have known long ago just how cold Chad’s heart was.

When a greater benefit was at stake, my feelings were always the first thing to be sacrificed.