But one morning, I wake up pissed off. Not upset, not depressed, but filled with a fury that’s cold and hard and strong as iron. It pushes me out of bed and into the shower like I’m preparing for battle. All my helpless self-pity has transmuted itself into determination.

No more sad-sack Emery, I decide, welcoming the cool spray on my face. No more moping and wallowing in heartbreak. I refuse to waste any more energy on that prick, not even to hate him. As Mom always says, the best revenge is living well.

I have to remind myself who I am, and the best way to do that is to get centered on my career again. I have to kick even more ass at work and double down on studying; the bar exam is only a week away now. And I have to make a clean break, so that I’m reminded of Hayden as little as possible. Which means finding a new apartment. Again.

Despite my new resolutions, I feel a residual flash of anger at myself. What the fuck happened here? After my last boyfriend, I told everyone who would listen that I’d sworn off men, but I still managed to get tangled up with yet another jerk. I convinced myself that Hayden would be different when he was just Asshole McFuckstick: The Thrilling Sequel.

At least I got some good sex out of this whole mess, I think bitterly as I comb my hair. At least I came to my senses before he sank his claws too far into me. At least I only wasted a month of my life, instead of two years.

Even so, what’s wrong with me? Am I an idiot? How many times do I have to make this kind of mistake before I learn to avoid it? Maybe I just won’t have a next time at all. I should have stuck to my no boys allowed rule in the first place. All men ever do is confuse your priorities and fuck up your life.

I remind myself of another Mom proverb: Spit in one hand and wish in the other, and see which one fills up first. I can’t change the past, so I force my attention back to the future and resume my pep talk.

I’m Emery Winters, damn it, I repeat silently while I get dressed and put on my makeup. I don’t need men. I don’t need anyone. I’m a lean, mean legal machine. I eat textbooks for breakfast and contracts for dessert. No one can fuck with me.

Speaking of which . . . I tell my growling stomach to hold its horses. There’s something I have to take care of before work, and I don’t want to be late. Besides, it’s Monday, so there will be free donuts in the conference room. Think of the sprinkles. No, wait, don’t think of them yet.

At last, I look as fierce and polished as I wish I felt. I dig my tenant agreement out of my filing cabinet and head downstairs to the building manager’s office.

“Good morning,” I say as I walk up to his desk, aiming for a tone that’s cheerful yet brisk. “I’d like to inquire about canceling my lease on 4B.”

The small, skinny man takes the heavy packet and turns to its last page. He blinks slowly as he reads, like an old owl. “This is a twelve-month lease,” he finally says. “You’ve only lived here for . . . six weeks?”

“Yes, I know. I’m willing to pay the fee for early cancellation.” I pull my checkbook out of my purse. “I can write you a check now if you want.”

Another long blink. “Is there something wrong with your unit?”

Yeah, your boss’s dick got into it. “Not at all. It’s a great place,” I say with a smile. “I just need to move.” And this guy just needs to stop grilling me and fill out the paperwork already.

“I see,” he replies, looking like he doesn’t see at all. “Hold on a moment, ma’am. Let me check with Mr. Oliver.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. I wait as patiently as I can while he dials and mutters into the phone. After five minutes that feel like five hours, he hangs up. “He’ll be right with you.”

“Uh . . . sure.”

With a heroic effort, I maintain my smile while screaming internally. This is absolutely the last thing I wanted. I’m not ready to see him face-to-face yet. But here he comes . . . After what feels like only a split second, I hear footsteps coming down the hallway. The familiar sound of his leather dress loafers on carpet.

When Hayden walks in, time screeches to a halt. My empty stomach constricts at the sight of him. All the hurt and betrayal I felt in Omaha comes flooding back with a motherfucking vengeance. It took me days before I could even start moving on—but this bastard never had anything to move on from. He played me like a violin, got what he wanted from me, and then hooked up with his ex the very next night.

And he looks as delicious as ever. That just adds insult to injury. He stomped my heart into the dirt and my body still wants a piece of him. Everything about this is so incredibly unfair. I try to grasp that anger, draw on it, and let it strengthen my resolve again.

Hayden’s expression seems kind of pissed off too. As soon as his blue eyes meet mine, though, his irritation fades into what looks almost like regret. “You want to move?” he asks.

What I want is to spit a defiant yes at him and swish out of here like a diva. He didn’t ask why I’m canceling my lease; he knows damn well what this is about. But I’m suddenly not sure if I can trust my voice, so instead, I just nod at him.

“Okay,” Hayden replies in a carefully neutral tone that I can’t read. He turns to the building manager. “Go ahead and cancel Miss Winters’s lease. No penalty.”

And with that, he walks out the office door, leaving both of us speechless. Hayden still seems pretty upset under his flat, even facade. But not at me.

At himself? Why, when he was the one who tossed me aside in the first place?

I hesitate, anxiety warring with curiosity, and anger playing both sides of the field. Then I shake my head and stomp after Hayden. It’s time for me to get back to work . . . but before I can do that, I need to lay this mystery to rest. Or else it will never leave me alone.

Chapter Nineteen

Hayden

It’s been several days since I saw Emery, and my heart beats wildly in my chest as I watch her approach. She’s in one of her trademark fitted dark suit jackets and pencil skirts, and she looks beautiful, smart, and put together. It makes me miss her even more. Her heels click loudly across the sidewalk as she moves with purpose toward me.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” she asks, venom in her tone. If she was subdued in the leasing office, now she’s full of fire.

A stabbing pain flares in my chest when our eyes connect. “That I’m an asshole, and you were right all along.” The words come from someplace deep inside me, so I know they’re true.

“You just up and leave me in a hotel room in Nebraska, turn off your phone and, what . . . start fucking Roxy? Just for fun? Just to see if you could royally fuck me over like everyone warned me about?” Her voice is loud and angry, but her eyes well with tears at those last words.

“You don’t know anything about me and Roxy.”

Her eyes widen and her nostrils flare. “No. You’re right. I don’t. Because you never told me anything about you and Roxy! I opened up to you so many times, and you couldn’t do the same.”

Glancing around, I see a few of the nosier tenants have gathered on the sidewalk and are watching our spectacle.

“Come with me. There’s something I need to tell you.”

She narrows her eyes, and for a second I think she’s going to refuse me. But then I say, “Please,” and her gaze softens. She might not want to hear my explanation, but something in her needs to hear it. Closure, I’m guessing.

“Okay.” Her tone is defeated, and I hate that. Her usual spark has faded, and everything in me wants to fix it. Part of me wants her to yell and scream and hit me, but she doesn’t, even though I deserve that and more.