**How I Loathed Her**
A slightly crumpled sheet of paper lay in her desk drawer alongside her resignation letter. I picked it up, and something told me it was meant for me. It brought back memories of childhood gamesplaying spies with the lads, passing secret notes written in lemon juice or milk, then holding them over a gas hob to reveal the hidden message. Lisa and I had even joked about those old tricks once.
At lunch, I rushed home, hands trembling like a lovesick schoolboy, and held the paper over the flame. I was rightof course I was. It *was* a letter from her. Shes as mad as I am.
*If youre reading this, I wasnt wrong about youyou figured it out,* Lisa had written. *It couldve been different. But humiliating me killed everything I ever felt for you. I think you even enjoyed it. Maybe thats all youre capable of. Just because you were hurt once doesnt mean you get to mock those who wont retaliate. Did you think I couldnt have given you a taste of your own medicine? But then I wouldnt be me.*
*You can win the battle and lose the war. Dont look for me. Goodbye.*
*Why?* I keep asking myself. *Why did I hate her so violently?*
When she walked in, it was like she carried sunlight, moonlight, the salt of the sea, and the rush of waves all at once. Birds sang as if in some fairy tale, and roses, tulips, peoniesevery flower in bloom. Im no romantic, but I *felt* it. My chest tightened. The heat was unbearable.
Lisa wasnt classically beautiful, but she had *something*something that unravelled me. Ive known plenty of stunning women, mind you. Brunettes, blondes, redheadsthough Ive always had a weakness for brunettes with cropped hair. Flowers, chocolates, perfumes, datesId had it all. Loved and been loved. Quick to ignite, quicker to walk away if rejected.
My first heartbreak nearly destroyed me. Then I learned its easier to be the one in control than the one begging.
But with her? I wanted to bury my face in her lap, trace her soft skin, twirl her golden-brown curls around my fingers, breathe her inendlessly, shamelessly.
Lisa was my subordinate. Not the best worker, but dependable. I trusted her with the hardest projects, and she delivered. Id shout at her just to watch her shrink, relishing my power. I dont know why. Shed go so still, so fragileyet she never broke. If shed just *cried*, Id have wiped her tears, comforted her. Maybe then things wouldve changed. *I* wouldve.
I tried everything to get her attentiongifts, compliments, lingering looks. I wanted to touch her, *know* her. And I swore she felt it too. When she was near, my skin burned.
Once, I pulled her into an embrace. She shoved me away, silent, eyes locked on mine.
*How dare she?*
She was my equal, though I refused to admit it. WorseI feared admitting she was *mine*. But she wasnt. That fury ate at me.
Watching her navigate life was fascinating. She solved problems effortlessly. My mates smirked, assuming Id reeled her in, aching for their turn. It gratedbecause it wasnt true. She was untouchable.
Id flirt with other women on the phone in front of her, laughing, arranging dates. She never even glanced my way.
I *knew* she wanted me. I felt it in my bones. She *had* to.
She needed this job. I was certain shed endure anything, that one day shed kneel at my feet, and Id shower her with love. I craved it.
Then Friday came. She didnt. Phone off, emails blocked. That minx left a project unfinished and hung me out to dry.
She vanished like mistalways just out of reach, yet so close I could almost touch her.
I thought it wasnt possible.
How wrong I was.
It *is*.
