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.

pain. Everything he wrote 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

my phone out of the bedside drawer and switch it back on. I turned it off days ago, after his third text, unable to cope anymore, hoping to find relief in the silence. I needed a break to 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

caught up, I flick to my texts from him, opening the oldest one unread

and I miss you

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

yell at me

heart aching for him like a pathetic idiot. My fingers hover on the kisses longingly for a moment before I shake myself out of it. I notice

do. What you need from me.

collection, I sigh, biting back the tremble on my bottom lip and push the

back to me. Emails ignored; texts ignored. You’re not giving me any choice but to show

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 strangely

see. The one who ignores all and comes pounding after me regardless. The Jake who came after me to Chicago despite me saying no.

want Jake to show up and break down my door just to see me? Prove to me he will fight for me? Maybe I do. Maybe it’s

my email app, logging into my personal account quickly, before I can linger

has sent you an

has sent you

you’re in everything I look at, you’re always around me even 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

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 ache of longing or the insane depths to which I miss him. Each lyric clawing at me reminding me of all the good in him and the way he shows me love, the way he’s always expressed his devotion without any

for a while before I have the strength to read his last

answering machine a dozen times. I hate that you don’t want to talk to me. Just tell me what to

my head too frazzled to care. The point is I’ve done it. I’ve read

back onto my bed staring at the ceiling, my head a whirling mass of crazy emotions and thoughts. I don’t know what to say to him or what I need from him. I’ve never been here before, never dealt with this kind of heart ache, or