4: 4
Thank goodness I had some savings. Otherwise I wouldn't even have had time to heal. Only after the fourth rabies shot did I start job hunting in earnest.
Then, at an interview, I ran into Simon Henson.
He was talking to the owner of the company. When he saw me, distaste crossed his face.
"Rita Swanson, what are you doing here?"
The owner smiled. "Mr. Henson, you two know each other? She's an applicant I'm about to interview."
Simon's tone went cold. "Nice company you've got. But you shouldn't just let any riffraff walk in."
The owner's expression changed on the spot.
I knew then that this job was gone.
Sure enough, he went through the motions of the interview, barely three minutes before he sent me out.
I stood in the hallway, my chest churning with unease.
Why, after I'd already decided to keep my distance, did they still refuse to leave me alone.
Simon came over slowly. "Rita, why haven't you contacted me?"
My voice was flat. "Simon, can you not be so revolting."
His face shifted. "Keep refusing to back down, and there really won't be another chance."
I said it plainly. "We're over. Whatever you and Zara Swanson want to do from now on, do it."
For a second his composure faltered, then it vanished just as fast. This was only him playing hard to get.
Something had gone wrong with Rita starting from the game that day.
She had never made a scene this big before.
"Rita, it was just a game we played. Why are you being so petty? You got hurt, that's your own fault for being slow. You can't blame anyone else. Don't tell me you're holding a grudge against Zara."
I lowered my eyes to the scabbed-over wound on my arm. It looked hideous. Scarring like this leaves a mark that never fully goes away. I'd been hurt this badly, and Simon called it just a game.
"Why didn't you throw the handkerchief to Zara? Why throw it to me?"
Guilt flickered in his eyes. "She's been pampered her whole life. How could she outrun a wolfhound? And it was only a game. Stop blowing it out of proportion."
"This company's no good. Come work for me instead."
As he spoke, he reached out to touch me, and I slapped him hard across the face.
Simon froze. "Rita, you dare hit me? Don't push your luck when I'm being decent to you."
My voice stayed flat. "Simon, we've played this handkerchief game so many times growing up. Why was it always me? I was just a toy for you all to toy with, wasn't I."
"You want me to come back and work for you. Isn't that just so the office can keep bullying me?"
He shot back without thinking. "I did not!"
But the guilt showed. His thumb and middle finger rubbed together without him meaning to. That was always his tell when he was lying.
Seeing me hold firm, an odd irritation rose in him. He pointed at me. "Since you still won't take the way out I'm offering, don't blame me for what comes next."
After that, every job I applied for hit a wall.
Just as I'd expected, I'd been blacklisted, unless I went and begged Simon in person.
At the thought, I dismissed it out of hand. I'd been a doormat for so many years. I couldn't keep being one.
So I decided to study for the grad school entrance exams, and picked up some freelance work and tutoring online on the side.
The wedding day came soon enough, and my phone lit up nonstop again.
I meant to hang up, but I accidentally answered.
My mother's voice came through.
"Rita, let Zara go to the wedding in your place. You're not fit to be seen anyway, and I'm afraid you'll embarrass the Swansons and make us a laughingstock."
Not a ripple stirred in me. So their favoritism could go so far as to swap out the bride on the day itself.
I said it evenly. "Mom, this is the last time I'll call you that. From now on the Swansons have nothing to do with me. Let's never contact each other again."
My mother's voice faltered, and she started to say something more, only to find the call already ended and blocked.
