Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
You are reading Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall, Chapter 5: Chapter 5. Read more chapters of Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall.
The doors closed slowly, leaving Callan frozen there, caught in that almost-said-it look.
The elevator's descent felt exactly like my mood over the past three months—just falling and falling.
Except this time, I'd finally hit rock bottom.
I didn't look back.
The second I pushed through the building's revolving doors, my phone started buzzing like crazy.
I declined the call without even looking and dragged that contact straight into my blocked list.
Eight years of my life, all that love I'd poured into him—I tossed it all in the dumpster along with that cardboard box.
I turned off every social media app and spent the next week sleeping like the dead in my apartment.
A week later, I was sitting by the window of my new place, having breakfast, when my phone rang.
Unknown local number.
I hesitated, then picked up.
"Hello, is this Ms. Rowan Sylver?"
Some middle-aged guy, sounding pretty frantic.
"Yes, who's this?"
"Ms. Sylver, sorry to bother you! This is Ethan Black, Mr. Thorne's assistant!"
His voice was urgent:
"Mr. Thorne really needs you to come in! It's an emergency!"
My voice stayed flat:
"Ethan, I don't work for Thorne Corp anymore. Whatever's going on there has nothing to do with me."
I was about to hang up when he got even more desperate:
"Ms. Sylver! Please, just hear me out!"
"It's the acquisition deal that Mr. Callan was handling—it's completely falling apart! You're the only one who can fix this!"
I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but kept my voice neutral:
"Sorry, but I have zero interest in getting involved with Thorne Corp again. You'll have to handle your own problems."
"Ms. Sylver! Don't hang up! Mr. Thorne said to tell you—name your price! Whatever you want, just please come back!"
Ethan was practically begging at this point.
"Tell Mr. Thorne thanks, but no thanks. My life isn't about cleaning up the Thorne family's messes."
I hung up and looked down at the traffic below.
That acquisition deal Callan was running—the partnership with Greaves Capital, one of the top firms in the country.
I'd spent three years bleeding over that project, called in every favor I had to make it happen.
And one little Sable was enough to burn it all down.
Turns out the whole thing collapsed even faster than I'd expected.
I couldn't help but smile.
Over the next three days, my new email got absolutely bombarded.
Subject lines went from "PROJECT EMERGENCY HELP NEEDED" to "Rowan, let's talk,"
and finally devolved into "I'm sorry" and "please come back."
My new phone number was getting hit with constant texts and calls from random numbers.
I watched the messages pop up on my screen with zero emotion:
"Rowan! Pick up! I fucked up!"
"Sable's gone! I fired her ass!"
"We can't lose this deal! I'm begging you! I'll give you anything!"
"Rowan, after eight years together, are you really gonna be this cold?"
I blocked every harassing number and set up email filters for all of it.
The elevator's descent felt exactly like my mood over the past three months—just falling and falling.
Except this time, I'd finally hit rock bottom.
I didn't look back.
The second I pushed through the building's revolving doors, my phone started buzzing like crazy.
I declined the call without even looking and dragged that contact straight into my blocked list.
Eight years of my life, all that love I'd poured into him—I tossed it all in the dumpster along with that cardboard box.
I turned off every social media app and spent the next week sleeping like the dead in my apartment.
A week later, I was sitting by the window of my new place, having breakfast, when my phone rang.
Unknown local number.
I hesitated, then picked up.
"Hello, is this Ms. Rowan Sylver?"
Some middle-aged guy, sounding pretty frantic.
"Yes, who's this?"
"Ms. Sylver, sorry to bother you! This is Ethan Black, Mr. Thorne's assistant!"
His voice was urgent:
"Mr. Thorne really needs you to come in! It's an emergency!"
My voice stayed flat:
"Ethan, I don't work for Thorne Corp anymore. Whatever's going on there has nothing to do with me."
I was about to hang up when he got even more desperate:
"Ms. Sylver! Please, just hear me out!"
"It's the acquisition deal that Mr. Callan was handling—it's completely falling apart! You're the only one who can fix this!"
I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but kept my voice neutral:
"Sorry, but I have zero interest in getting involved with Thorne Corp again. You'll have to handle your own problems."
"Ms. Sylver! Don't hang up! Mr. Thorne said to tell you—name your price! Whatever you want, just please come back!"
Ethan was practically begging at this point.
"Tell Mr. Thorne thanks, but no thanks. My life isn't about cleaning up the Thorne family's messes."
I hung up and looked down at the traffic below.
That acquisition deal Callan was running—the partnership with Greaves Capital, one of the top firms in the country.
I'd spent three years bleeding over that project, called in every favor I had to make it happen.
And one little Sable was enough to burn it all down.
Turns out the whole thing collapsed even faster than I'd expected.
I couldn't help but smile.
Over the next three days, my new email got absolutely bombarded.
Subject lines went from "PROJECT EMERGENCY HELP NEEDED" to "Rowan, let's talk,"
and finally devolved into "I'm sorry" and "please come back."
My new phone number was getting hit with constant texts and calls from random numbers.
I watched the messages pop up on my screen with zero emotion:
"Rowan! Pick up! I fucked up!"
"Sable's gone! I fired her ass!"
"We can't lose this deal! I'm begging you! I'll give you anything!"
"Rowan, after eight years together, are you really gonna be this cold?"
I blocked every harassing number and set up email filters for all of it.
End of Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall Chapter 5. Continue reading Chapter 6 or return to Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall book page.