"Miss! Miss! You need to check in first," the frantic receptionist yells as she chases me down the hallway of Fairview. "Miss, you can't go in there! Mr. Carlisle is in a very important meeting. Miss!"

My chest heaves with betrayal and frustration as I twist open Hunter's door and storm inside. I shut the door and lock it behind me. I've had the entire drive from White Plains to Manhattan to organize my flustered thoughts. And I've come to one conclusion. I am pissed!

Hunter looks up from his desk, incertitude captures his surprised eyes. "I'm going to have to call you back, Arnold." He presses a button on his keyboard. "Lilah, what're you doing here? Is everything ok?"

I drop the legal documents on his desk, my frenzied heart beating like a battle drum. "You're getting sued!? That's why you're so busy all the time?"

Hunter narrows his eyes in confusion. "How-How did you know?"

"How did I know?" I flap my arms, and a maniacal laugh escapes my lips. "Because of this Class Action Notice, Hunter!"

Hunter reaches for the papers and scans them. His eyes quickly fill with dread and the colour drains from his face as he puts the pieces together. "Lilah-"

"No!" I yell. "You released a drug that's killing people, Hunter! A drug that might have killed my dad." I let out a shaky breath. "Did you know? Did you bribe FDA officials to look past your findings? Huh? Tell me!"

Hunter runs his hands through his hair. "Lilah, I promise we didn't do anything wrong. Our research was solid. Everything we submitted for review was accurate."

"Really?" I snort. "Then why did a Judge grant permission for the case to proceed? I did research on class action lawsuits just before I came here. They need evidence to proceed with litigation. And clearly they found it."

"Lilah, I'm having my team re-review all our records," Hunter says in a hushed tone. "We're submitting all our documents to discovery right now." Hunter exhales. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't know your dad was prescribed Profilatol. If I knew I would have told you about the lawsuit earlier. I promise."

"Hunter," I plead in a whimpered voice. "My dad died because of a stroke." Tears begin spilling out of my eyes. "And your company could be responsible for it."

"I know," he whispers. "Lilah, I-"

"You what? What, Hunter? What could you possibly say to me right now? That you didn't know? How? You're the fucking president."

"It's not that simple, baby," Hunter explains. "I'm not in charge of - "

"Don't baby me right now," I cut him off.

"Lilah, please. Just listen to me..."

"Listen to you? I can barely even look at you right now!" My voice falters. "Was this all about money? Is that all you people care about? I re-read that New York times article that came out a couple of years ago. Carlisle Industries, first to market! Is that why you were first? You said 'fuck it', and just released a dangerous drug? How much money have you made from it? Hmm?"

Hunter looks at me with desperation in his eyes. "Lilah, please calm down. Let me just -"

"Oh, come on Hunter. You're the finance guy, right? So tell me. How much did you make? Was it worth all the lives lost?"

"Enough!" Hunter slams his fist down on his desk. "Do you really think I would ever put money above human life?" Hunter's voice booms. "Is that how you really see me?" Hunter stands up and walks towards me. "Lilah, you know me. How- how could you possibly say that?"

Hunter tries to put his hand on my cheek but I push it away. "I don't know, Hunter." I take a step back, seething. "I mean, you are your father's son."

A suffocating, tortuous silence hangs in the air. The bridge linking our two hearts begins to crumble, leaving havoc and distance in its wake. I can physically feel our connection snapping, wire after wire disconnecting, until we're two separate entities. I've gone too far.

"I see." Hunter exhales. His blank, hollow expression causes my heart to constrict but the fury coursing through my veins is stronger, deeper, more powerful than the guilt.

"Here, take your keys." I hand him the keys to the BMW. Our fingers brush against one another, and for a fleeting second, I regret my choice of words. But then he pulls away, leaving me motionless and destroyed.

"Do you need Harry to drive you home?" Hunter asks, his tone professional, like he's talking to a stranger.

"No." I grab the documents off his desk. "I'll take an Uber."

***

I feel like an empty shell, like I'm hovering over my body. Everything is dim, laced in a foggy haze. The Uber driver hands me back my card. Shit, did I tip?  Wait, why did I even hand him a card? This isn't a cab. I'm losing it. I step out onto the curb and roll my eyes as I notice a tall shadow lingering by the front entrance.

"You're not supposed to be here," I sigh as Miles's stormy eyes scan my face.

"I just came to apologize. My behaviour was absolutely atrocious the last time we spoke. I said a lot of hurtful things that I didn't mean. And I'm so sorry for grabbing you like that. You know me, Dee. I would never hurt you."

"Do I know you?" I sigh, feeling exhausted. "I don't know anything anymore." I take a deep breath." Miles, I just- Whatever. I don't care. You're forgiven. Is that what you want to hear? I absolve you of your sin. You can leave now." I pull out my house keys.

"Delilah, are you ok?" Miles places a delicate hand on my shoulder. "You look like you've been crying."

I let out a noise, something between a laugh and a scoff. "You're very observant, professor. Good job." I begin to open the lock.

"I'm serious. Are you ok?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Miles pauses and looks around, his eyes landing on the bar across the street. "Do you want a drink? Tito's?"

I can't. I shouldn't. But, it's just a drink...right?

"You're buying."

Miles smiles. "Of course."

We walk down the street to Tito's Restaurant and Bar. I make sure to keep distance between us. This is just a drink. No more.

"Lilah?" Benny, our server, asks. "I haven't seen you in forever!" He turns to the shaggy-haired Englishman sitting in front of me. "And...you're here with Miles. Oh, okay."

Miles and I used to frequent this bar often, but I haven't been back since we broke up.

"Hi, Benny," I sigh. One more person to judge me, great. "How've you been?"

"Oh, you know, surviving." Benny pulls out his notepad. "So, what can I get for you guys?"

"I'll get a lager," Miles states as he scans the drink menu. "And a vodka soda for the lady." He peers up at me. "Right?"

"Yeah," I nod. I guess he remembers.

"Alright, I'll be right back." Benny leaves our table, and I suddenly miss his presence.

I fidget with my fingers as we sit in silence until Benny returns with our drinks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Miles asks.

"No, I really don't," I admit.

"We can talk about something else."

"Ok," I say, lifelessly. "What?"

"Uh-" Miles begins. "Oh, did you ever finish that collection of Mark Twain novels?" The ones he gave me for my birthday.

"Yes."

"Which is your favourite?"

"I liked, um, Eve's Diary."

"Really? That's one of his more later pieces. What did you like about it?"

I start to dissect the short story, detailing the sacrilegious humor. Our conversation stays on literature, a topic that brought us together in the first place. One day, during class, Miles caught me reading Emily Brontë instead of my Marketing textbook, he asked why I was in a Business program instead of English, and our relationship grew from there.

"This is nice," Miles begins. "I miss arguing about books with you." A half smile on his face.

I exhale, hating hearing him say that. "Miles, listen. I don't want to give you the wrong idea about what's going on here."

"And what idea do I have?"

"I just don't want you to think that this will become a regular occurrence, ok? This is just a one off. An anomaly."

"Because you have a boyfriend?" Miles asks knowingly.

"It's, uh, complicated."

"Complicated because of the lawsuit?"

My eyebrow perks up. "How do you know about that?"

Miles shrugs. "My aunt told me about it."

"Your aunt?"

"Yes, my Aunt Mitsy. You've never met her."

I bite my lip. Oh, but I have. I guess he calls his godmother his aunt. "Oh."

"Yeah," Miles pauses. "So, it's complicated? Why?"

I tap my finger against my glass, not wanting to answer. Why did I agree to this?

"Is he saying he didn't know?" Miles continues.

I nod.

"And do you believe him?"

"I really don't want to talk about it, Miles." Especially not with you.

"That's fair. Sorry." Benny brings us the bill, and Miles lays a twenty on the table. "Do you think we can do this again?" Miles asks cautiously.

"Miles, look. I don't know why you're pushing this so hard." I shake my head. "I've changed, you've changed. We're not the same people anymore. What we had is...just a memory now." And not the best one.

"Dee-"

"Come on Miles, even when you were yelling at me, like a lunatic might I add, you said I changed. And you're right, I did. Let's just leave it at that. Let's just move on." I stare into his cloudy eyes. "Please?"

"You really don't have any feelings for me, do you?"

"No, I don't." I hope off the barstool, and we start heading out the door.

We walk half a block and stop. "So, this is it? This is goodbye?" Miles whispers.

"Yes." I hold out my hand to shake his.

"Really?" Miles laughs, and pulls me into a hug. "If this is it, then I'm going to hold you for a few seconds."

My body tenses up and I pull away. "Goodbye, Miles."

"Take care, Dee."

I offer Miles a small smile before running across the street back to my apartment. My breath hitches as I approach my apartment.

"Hunter." He's sitting on the curb with a bouquet of lilies resting on his lap. His alarmingly bloodshot and torpid eyes burrow into mine. "What-"

"What am I doing here?" he asks hoarsely as he stands up. "I tried calling you but you didn't pick up." I reach into my pocket. Damn, silent mode. "Was that..." He takes a deep breath. "Miles?"

An unendurable pain festers in my stomach. "Uh, he was here when I got home. He just wanted to...apologize and explain himself."

Hunter closes his eyes for a sharp second. "And you listened to him?"

I nod. "Yes."

"So, you'll listen to him, someone who has hurt you on countless occasions." Hunter runs his hand through his midnight-black hair. "But you won't listen to me?"

"Hunter, I-"

"I've never given you a reason to doubt me, Lilah!" Hunter exclaims in a controlled yet thunderous tone.

"You didn't tell me about Camille," I point out, immediately regretting it. I don't even care about that.

"Camille? Really?" Hunter scoffs. "I'm sorry I didn't mention my ex-fianceé to the girl I just started seeing. Sorry for wanting to get to know you better before disclosing my relationship history."

"You're right," I admit. "That doesn't matter. Hunter. I'm so-"

"You know what? Save it, Lilah." Hunter reaches into his pocket and pulls out the coffee cup keychain. "Here. This is what you want, right? Take it." He dangles the chain by one finger rather than placing it in my hand.

I passively grab it, my mouth dry, unable to speak. He gave me back my key.

"I'm sorry about your father, truly." Hunter turns towards the trash can, tosses the flowers inside, and walks away.

I watch him, frozen, until he becomes a distant black dot. What just happened? Did he-? Did he just break up with me? Why am I not crying? Why don't I feel sad? Do I care? What's wrong with me?

I pull out my phone and dial the only person that I trust irrevocably.

"Hello?"

"Kimmy.."

"I heard."

"Can you-"

"I'm on my way."