Against Aaron's wishes, I left the penthouse. I told him that I had to take care of something at work. I was vague with the details because I plan to tell him the whole truth tonight after I leave the Daily Yorker Gazette. I just hope he can forgive me for the way I started our relationship. Being an independent woman my whole life, I hate to admit this, but I've become too attached to him to lose him now.

Thanks to Timothy, I look amazing wearing the Annelise dress. I have to look great since I decided that I am going to finally quit my crappy job today.

I've been so foolish to think that my male chauvinistic boss is going to promote me over the only male in our department anyway. The Dickweed is going to promote Miller-the-Filler whether I sabotage my relationship with Aaron or not. I just can't believe it took me this long to realize that.

I have no idea what I am going to do after that. Journalism has been my life, and I don't want to give it up. But after the harsh words I'm probably going to say to my asshole boss, I'll be blacklisted for sure and just might have to. I might care later, but right now, I don't give a fuck.

I walk into the building with my favorite accessory in hand…coffee. To my surprise, everybody is running around frantically. The whole place is a madhouse. I've never seen it this crazy. Papers are flying everywhere as everybody shouts and runs back and forth from their desks to the conference room. I find Tina and smack her arm, getting her attention.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"We finally got him."

My heart beats harder as a sharp pain stabs into my stomach.

"Got who? What are you talking about?"

"Aaron Hunter. Or should I say, Emmanuel Colon?"

I freeze, not able to move any part of my body. How the hell did they find that out? I only found that out last night…and my source was him. My hands start to tremble and I start to sweat profusely. I should call Aaron. I rummage through my purse, looking for my phone. Shit! I must have left it at Aaron's place.

Before I leave, I run into the conference room and spot the Dickweed himself with a smile stretched across his smug face from ear-to-ear. What a fucking asshole!

"Hey, Dickweed, I quit! You can go to Hell, you sexist asshole! And while you’re there, go fuck yourself!" I make sure to flip him the bird before I rush out of there and back onto the busy streets of Manhattan.

I run as fast as I can in my six-inch heels. Dammit, why did I pick today to look so damn fashionable?

I run like a madwoman past the Barnie's, the Starbucks, and the Dunkin' Donuts. So what if I use coffee places as geographical landmarks? That's how I find my way around this maze of a frantic city.

As I enter the lobby of his apartment building, I wave to the doorman in the lobby, who summons the special penthouse elevator for me. When the doors close, I tap my toe nervously against the elevator floor. Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink. On the twenty-fifth toe tap, the doors open. I jump inside to find Aaron waiting on the sofa. His demeanor is sad and his head is bowed toward the floor. I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to the punch. He holds up my phone.

"Sherri called. She wanted to know if you got the dirt on me yet."

I can hear the hurt and distrust in his voice. The guilt stabs me in the gut like a knife.

"Is that all this was for you? A story? Is that all I am to you? Another byline in the fucking newspaper?"

He looks up at me. His eyes are full of disappointment and heartache. I can see his tears falling from them clear as day. He isn't hiding them like he did last night. And I put them there. I remain silent, not even sure if the truth would salvage what we had only moments ago. He was right, I should have never left the penthouse this morning.

"Is that where you went? To tell them all my real origin story? The one I told you last night in confidence? It's all over the news. Even Delores told me she can't put her positive spin on this one for me. How could you do this to me? Especially after knowing how much this election means to me. It's my own fault, I guess. I knew you were a reporter from the beginning. I just thought you were different from them. But in reality, sucking people dry, not caring about how your stories affect peoples’ lives is in your blood. And I should have known better. I still want you as the chairwoman of the foundation; it's only fair. But that's now all I want from you. Please, just leave me."

Aaron places my phone on the glass coffee table before he ascends the staircase and vanishes from my life…forever.

I could've told him that I wasn't the one to break the story. That I would never betray him like that. But it wouldn't have made any difference. I was still the woman who toyed with his emotions…and his body…just to get a story. And for that, I deserve this…all of it. Karma may be a bitch, but I am that bitch's queen.