The Dead Weight Is A CEO

Summary

Seven years. That’s how long it took for Damian Whitaker to dump me for the seventh time.

It was the same script as the previous six: “You’re just not on my level, June.”

But this time, I didn’t beg. I didn’t cry. I didn’t offer to change. I just looked him in the eye and said, “Okay.”

Three days ago, I froze every credit card in his family’s possession.

Two days ago, I repossessed the car he let his sister drive.

Yesterday, I moved out of the luxury apartment I’d been paying for.