HOW I HATED HER
A slightly crumpled sheet of paper lay in her desk drawer alongside her resignation letter. I picked it up, and something told me it was meant for me. Suddenly, an old childhood game came to mindthe one where wed play spies and write secret messages to each other. Wed squeeze lemon juice onto a saucer or use milk as ink, then scribble our notes with toothpicks or cotton buds. Holding the paper over a gas flame would reveal the hidden words. Id even joked about it once with herwith Emily.
Barely waiting for lunch break, I rushed home and, like a lovesick schoolboy, fumbled with shaking hands, burning with impatience as I held the sheet over the stove. And I was rightof course I was. It *was* her letter. Shes as mad as I am!
*If youre reading this, I wasnt wrong about you,* Emily had written. *You figured out what to do with this paper. Things could have been different. But humiliating me destroyed everything I ever felt for you. I think you even enjoyed it. Maybe thats all youre capable of. Just because someone hurt you doesnt mean you get to mock those who wontor cantfight back. Did you really think I couldnt have repaid you in kind? But then I wouldnt be me.*
*You can win a battle and lose the war. Dont look for me. Goodbye.*
*Why?* I ask myself over and over. *Why did I hate her so terribly, so fiercely?*
From the moment she walked in, it was like she carried sunlight, moonlight, the scent of the sea, and the sound of waves in one breath. Birds burst into song, roses and daffodils bloomed all at once. Im no romantic, but I *felt* it.
The room grew stifling. I burned.
Emily wasnt a classic beauty, but there was something about hersomething I couldnt namethat drove me mad. Dont think I havent known beautiful women. Ive had my share. Blondes, brunettes, redheadsthough Ive always preferred brunettes with short hair. Flowers, chocolates, perfume, datesIve had it all. Loved and been loved. Burned fast, walked away without regret when rejected, found others more willing.
I remember my first heartbreak. It wrecked me. Then I learned its easier to be in control than to beg.
But with her? I wanted to bury my face in her lap, trace her soft, milky skin, twist my fingers through her chestnut curls, touch her neck, her waist, breathe her in without limits or rules.
Emily was my subordinate. Not my best employee, but reliablealways met deadlines, handled my toughest projects. I could shout at her, stare her down, relish my power. Why did I do it? Shed shrink, so vulnerable, and Id want to break her further. But she never cracked. If shed just *cried*Id have wiped her tears, comforted her. Maybe then everything wouldve changed. Maybe *I* wouldve.
I tried everything to get her attention. Giftschocolates, perfumes. Compliments. Stares that shouldve spoken for me. I wanted to touch her, *know* her. Not just physicallyI craved her thoughts. And I almost had itI swore she felt the same.
When she was near, it scalded me.
Once, I pulled her into an embrace. She shoved me away, silent, eyes locked on mine.
How *dare* she?
She was my equal, though I refused to see it. WorseI was afraid to admit she was *mine*. But she wasnt. And that enraged me.
Watching her navigate life fascinated me. She solved problems effortlessly.
My mates smirked, eyeing me, licking their lips, assuming Id reeled her in. They wanted her too. It gratedbecause it wasnt true.
She was untouchable.
Id take calls from other women in front of her, laughing, flirting, arranging dates, hoping to sting her into jealousy. She didnt even glance my way. Just stayed quiet.
I *knew* she wanted me. Felt it in my bones. She *had* to. I didnt just believe itI *knew*.
She needed this job. Shed endure anything, and one day, shed be at my feet. Id shower her with love. I *ached* for it.
But pride doesnt just break down wallsit destroys everything.
On Friday, she didnt come in. Turned off her phone, blocked her email. That sly witch left the project unfinished. She *betrayed* me.
And just like that, she vanishedlike mist. Always there, always out of reach.
I thought it couldnt happen.
How wrong I was.
It *does* happen.
