Chapter 140 I hate you, Hermes
June
"You cannot quit," Hermes says, his hands hovering in the air like he wants to reach for me but can’t. "I won’t allow it. I told you I’ll fix this."
I let out a shaky breath before I can stop myself. "I don’t think you can fix anything," I blurt.
His eyes widen, shock written all over his face — and that’s when I realize how loud I’d gotten. A few heads have turned. I can feel their stares, heavy and nosy, like knives on my skin. Perfect. Just what I needed — a scene in the middle of the damn hallway.
I clear my throat, forcing myself to sound composed even though my heart’s pounding. "Mr. Grande," I say through clenched teeth, smiling like everything’s fine, "people are watching. Let’s have this conversation somewhere else. Somewhere discreet."
He opens his mouth, then stops. I follow his gaze and spot the employees lingering by the corner, pretending to check their phones while obviously eavesdropping.
Hermes exhales softly, shoulders squaring as that formal, unreadable mask slips back over his face. "Alright, Miss Alexander," he says coolly. "I’ll contact you later. Tell Natalya I came searching for her."
Then he turns and walks away. Just like that. Like I didn’t just throw my heart out and stomp on it.
I stand there for a second, frozen, before I finally move. Every step toward my desk feels heavier than the last. My chest aches, my throat burns, and all I want to do is disappear into the floor. But I can’t. I have to keep my head up. Pretend I’m fine. Pretend that this doesn’t hurt.
I sit down, open my computer, stare at the screen without seeing anything. My fingers are shaking, my eyes sting, but I blink fast, refusing to let the tears fall. I won’t give them — or him — the satisfaction of seeing me break.
No. I have to be strong. I have to walk away before Natalya makes my life a living hell.
I don’t even know if I should be thankful that Natalya canceled and rescheduled the appointment to check the gala venue. Maybe it’s a blessing. At least I won’t have to be around when she finally does. By then, I’ll be gone. Quit. Done.
I’m standing in front of the hotel — that hotel. The same place where it all started. The same walls that held secrets I swore I’d forget. Funny how it’s all coming full circle. Everything began here… and I guess this is where it’ll end.
I love Hermes. God, I do. But I’m not sure if I can keep fighting for something he won’t even be honest about. Love can’t survive when one person is always hiding behind walls. I’m tired of running into his silence.
I glance down at his message on my phone one more time before crossing the road.
Room 2308.
Just that. No explanation. No apology. Just directions — as if I’d go anywhere he tells me to.
I adjust my sunglasses, pulling the brim of my cap lower. The disguise feels stupid, but I need it. People know him. People talk. I don’t want to be seen.
When I reach the door, I knock once. The sound barely fades before it swings open — like he was waiting.
I step inside.
He’s standing by the window, his back to me, hands in his pockets, looking out at the city like he owns it. Like he’s not the reason my chest feels hollow.
My throat tightens. I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady, but the question breaks out of me before I can stop it.
"Why are you getting married to Miss Voss?"
The words hang between us, sharp and trembling.
And for the first time, he finally turns around.
"What?" he says, turning slightly, like he didn’t just hear me right.
"You love me, right?" My voice comes out smaller than I want it to. "Then why are you getting married to her?"
Hermes runs a hand through his hair, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Take a seat, June."
"No need for that. I’ll be quick." My voice trembles, but I hold his gaze. "Is it because she’s a valuable asset to your company and I’m just an intern who has nothing to offer?"
He immediately steps forward, shaking his head. "No. No, don’t say that, June. That’s not the reason."
He exhales, deep and heavy. "The company was falling apart and—"
"I heard that part," I cut in, pacing a little because standing still hurts too much. "From Natalya herself. She said she’s the savior of your company."
I stop, turning to face him again. "But that’s not my problem. I just want to know something—what about me?" My voice cracks. "You confessed your feelings. We kissed. We slept together. So why not me?"
"It’s… complicated, baby," Hermes groans, taking a step closer, reaching for me like he always does. His hand lifts toward my face, but I step back fast.
"Don’t come any closer, Hermes." My throat burns. "I get the picture now."
He stares at me like he’s trying to memorize my face. "What did Natalya say to you?"
I let out a humorless laugh, waving my hands in the air. "That you’re a playboy. But I already knew that. And—"
Before I can finish, he closes the distance in two long strides and cups my face in his hands. His touch is warm, desperate. "Don’t say that, please. I love you. I love you, and only you."
"No," I whisper, shaking my head. "That’s a lie."
I try to pull away, but his hands drop to my waist, holding me there, firm but trembling.
"I swear I love you," he says, his voice breaking.
Pain and anger surges through me before I can think. I shove him hard in the chest, and he stumbles back a little.
"Then why aren’t you fucking choosing me!" The words tear out of me, raw and shaking. My fists clench so tight my nails dig into my palms.
"Why are you getting married to someone else if you love me that much?" My voice cracks. "Why not let the company burn to the ground?"
Tears spill freely now, hot and unstoppable. I hate how I sound — selfish, unreasonable — but I don’t care. My heart feels like it’s splitting open, and I just want the pain to stop.
"June, why would you say some—" Hermes starts, but I cut him off.
"You see?" I snap. "You’d do anything for the company. But what do you want to do with me? Keep me as your side piece? The girl you sneak around with, that you get to fuck and ‘love’ while you’re married?" I shake my head, voice trembling with rage and hurt. "Hell no, Hermes. That’s not happening. Me or Natalya?"
He freezes. I see it — that hesitation flickering in his eyes. And that’s all the answer I need.
I let out a broken laugh and grip my bag tighter. "Well, that settles it. Expect my resignation letter by tomorrow, Mr. Grande."
I turn to leave, but before I can take a step, his arms wrap around me from behind. His voice comes out desperate, cracking.
"Don’t go, please. I don’t have much time left with you."
For a second, I stop breathing. His hold is trembling, his breath warm against my neck — and I can feel the weight of his sadness, heavy and real. But it doesn’t change anything, because there is no solution to our poor love.
"I can’t stay, Hermes." My voice shakes, but I stand my ground. "It’s over. We’re over. I tried—God, I tried. I loved you too much. I was willing to let everything go. But now…" I swallow hard, my chest tightening. "Now I realize I need to love myself a little more."
I turn slowly in his arms until we’re face to face. His eyes are glassy, full of something that looks like regret.
I lean forward, press a light kiss just below his neck, tasting salt and goodbye.
"I hate you, Hermes," I whisper. "And I pray that in my next life, I never cross paths with you again."
His grip loosens, falling away completely. His face goes still, stricken — like I just ripped something out of him.
I walk to the door, open it, and step outside.
The moment it shuts behind me, my knees almost give out. I lean against it, pressing a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound of my crying.
And just like that, it’s done.
We’re done.
___
I step into my apartment, leather bag swinging in my hand, filled with every kind of alcohol I could find at the grocery store on my way back. Tonight, I’m going to drink my sorrow out.
As I enter, I spot Leila at the door, about to leave.
"Hey, June," she says, scanning my face, but I drop my cap lower, hiding from her gaze.
"Hey… where are you going?" I ask, keeping my voice low, avoiding eye contact. I’ll tell her everything after I resign — but not now. Not tonight.
Leila lifts a trash bag, showing me. "To throw this."
I nod and move past her. "Alright. I’ll just get some sleep. I’m tired," I say weakly, not wanting to linger.
"We need to talk, J—"
I freeze. Her words stop me mid-step.
"Not now, La. Tomorrow, please," I reply quickly, trying to sidestep her.
But she doesn’t let it go. “I’m pregnant."
My head snaps back toward her. My heart thunders in disbelief.
“You’re… what?" I manage to ask, my voice sharp.
She sighs, rubbing the back of her neck, “The father’s Tobias."
My stomach drops. Tobias? My brain feels like it’s been run over on the highway. Tobias?