I Am Not Your Pawn Anymore

Anaya stood in Nana Rose's garden. She was pruning the hydrangeas. Snip. Snip.

"Mr. Meyers," she repeated. "Ex-employees are not obligated to be your emotional support animals."

"I didn't release Adele's statement," Barrett said quickly. "I stopped it. I protected you."

Anaya laughed softly. "Protected me? You've been killing me slowly for years, Barrett. A little piece of my soul for every deal closed, every lie I covered. You just never noticed."

"For years?" Barrett was confused. "What are you talking about?"

"It doesn't matter." She cut a dead branch. It fell to the ground.

"Come back," he said. His voice cracked. "I'll double your salary. I'll... I'll postpone the wedding. We can talk about the merger. You were right about the logistics accounts."

He was bargaining. He was desperate.

Anaya looked at the setting sun. "Barrett, listen to me closely. I don't love you anymore."

"You're lying. You're angry."

"No," she said. "I don't hate you, either. Hate implies passion. I just... don't care. You are nothing to me. Just a bad memory."

Genuine Indifference.

She heard his breath hitch over the phone line. She heard the beep of a machine in the background.

"Don't look for me," she said. "If you do, I'll send the files I have on the Cayman accounts to the FBI. I'm not bluffing."

She hung up.

She popped the back off the cheap burner phone she was using. She took out the SIM card and snapped it in half. She tossed the pieces into the trash can.

In the hospital, Barrett stared at the phone.

Nothing.

She was gone.

He ripped the sensors off his chest. The monitor flatlined, screaming a high-pitched alarm. Nurses came running.

"Mr. Meyers! You can't leave!"

"Watch me," he snarled.

He grabbed his clothes. He had to stop her. Portugal. She was going to Portugal.

He had to get to New Jersey before she left for the airport.