He Thought I Was Being Good, I Was Just Getting Ready to leave Chapter 02

He Thought I Was Being Good, I Was Just Getting Ready to leave Chapter 02

A tall, striking woman stepped out in a loose bathrobe.

When she saw me, she barely reacted. She didn’t seem surprised at all that a third person was here.

“Mr. Blake…” Her voice was syrupy sweet as she pressed against him, the robe leaving little to the imagination. “About that endorsement deal…”

Harrison pulled back slightly and took a sip of his whiskey. “Talk to Ethan about it. You can go now.”

The woman beamed. “Thank you, Mr. Blake!”

A moment later, she stepped back out, fully dressed.

I stared at her and finally recognized her face. She was Tiffany Ross, a rising starlet who’d been all over social media lately.

As she reached the door, I stepped aside slightly.

Maybe she was trying to suck up to Harrison, because she suddenly stopped and gave me a once-over.

Then she looked back over her shoulder and laughed. “Mr. Blake, you’ve got great taste. Your assistant has that innocent look, if she ever joined the entertainment industry, she’d be a huge hit.”

Harrison didn’t even look up. He didn’t bother correcting her either. He just sounded annoyed. “Still here?”

She grabbed her purse and walked out, swaying her hips without a care.

Harrison changed clothes, then walked over and took my bag from my hands with practiced ease.

He did it just like so many times before, his expression completely natural, as if nothing had happened.

He slipped an arm around my waist. “Hungry? What do you want for dinner? I’ll take you out.”

When I didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow, thinking he understood.

He gave a lazy smile, his fingers tracing small circles on my waist. “Upset? Want me to get another room next door?”

I’d always known. Always.

I knew he was a player. I knew he was unfaithful.

But I still walked right into it without hesitation. I was the one who played the fool. I was the one who handed him the knife.

So I never blamed anyone, not even Harrison.

I always knew that one day, we would go our separate ways for good.

But I kept telling myself: just a little longer. A little longer.

And now, when that day finally arrived, strangely, I felt no heart-wrenching pain, just relief.

Maybe because my heart had been wounded so many times, it had gone numb.

I pulled Harrison’s hand away, looked down, and took my bag back.

“Harrison, I’m breaking up with you.”

My voice was low but steady, carrying a courage I’d never felt before.