The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

I stare at the folded paper in my hand, with shaking fingers, the envelope discarded, now lying on the bed with his neat scroll on the front. I take an eternity to run my fingers across the neat lettering, pain shooting through me from every angle. I inhale deeply steadying my nerves, unfolding the thick cream paper, biting my lip. I drag courage from somewhere telling myself I should dive in and do it.

Emma,

I’m sorry, bambino, so extremely sorry. I don’t even know what writing to you is going to achieve, but I had to do something. I saw them packing up every piece of you and I had to stop myself from tearing it out of their hands and holding onto it all. I can’t bear it. I feel like everything they remove is a slash across my heart.

I know I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll do anything to have it, anything to get you back. I made a stupid mistake, I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I wanted to lash out at everyone.

I’ll never hurt you again, I swear, just give me a chance to

fight for you. I’ll never give you reason to doubt me again.

I hurt the one person I love and need more than anything in the world.

I won’t ever make that mistake again, being here without you is a torture, so unbearable I can’t breathe. I can’t get you out of my head or the way you looked at me when I told you what I’d done. It was like a knife being thrust deep into my chest and turned and I know what I’ve done. You don’t need to punish me, baby, nothing is as bad as this and no punishment could come close to the pain I’m in right now without you. I’ve never felt regret like this before and never intend to earn it again.

Please. Talk to me. I just want to see you, look at you, and have you near.

I’m slowly going insane without you, baby. I need you. I love you and I can’t, won’t lose you. I’ll fix this.

Just give me a chance.

Jake x

Tears roll down my cheeks dripping onto the paper and I watch in agony as some of the ink from his signed name bleeds across the surface. I watch in dismay as his name becomes a blur of stained grey and throw the letter on the bed as though it’s burned me.

makes me ache and want to see him more. I’m so confused; in turmoil about what to do. His words have cut me to the core with longing and anger, so much

be alone and process things. It bursts back into life and I try to steady the inner wave of tears and fear waiting to drown me. I need to do this if I have any desire to move forward in any way. I need to see what he wants to say and decide where

flick to my texts from him, opening the oldest one unread in the

miss you

tears, moving to the next text quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid fast, trying to avoid the overemotional

say something, anything. Even if it’s to just yell at me and tell me you hate me. Silence is torture. Xxx

for a moment before I shake myself out of it. I notice under the third message is one more; a new one received

What you need from me. Talk to me. Please. Xxx J

in the gut and another tear to my collection, I sigh, biting back the tremble on my bottom

door just to see you. Please, Emma. Reply or something. I got every bunch of flowers, every piece of jewelry, and every gift sent back to me. Emails ignored; texts ignored. You’re not giving me any choice but to show up and fight for you, baby. I love you too damn much to let this go and I’m going crazy with this silence, we had so much, too much, to just let it end this way. Xxx J

a mix of heartbreak and something else, a tingle of something I can’t even pinpoint. I should be angry with the way he’s text me but

after me regardless. The Jake who came after

break down my door just to see me? Prove to me he will fight for me? Maybe I do. Maybe

open my email app, logging into my personal account quickly, before

has sent you

Carrero has sent

when you’re not here. You’re the voice in my head that tells me to be a better man. I waited a lifetime to find you and I’m not going to lose you now. Talk to me Emma, Please. I need to know what you’re feeling and

old mode of communication hits me like a punch to the heart; painful yet not. Memories of how sweet he can be, how attentive, funny, and loving. It confuses me more and despite myself I press play on the

more tears and more internal assault, as I imagine Jake saying every single word to me. I can’t stop the ache of longing or the insane depths to which I miss him. Each lyric clawing

song ends, it lingers in my head for a while before I have the strength to read his last email.

dozen times. I hate that you don’t want to talk to me. Just tell me what to do, baby … Please. I’m

frazzled to care. The point is I’ve done it. I’ve read them, despite the emotional turmoil, the tears, and the ache to see him

with this kind of heart ache, or been in a situation where I’ve freely given my trust away only to have it wrenched