Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband by Anney GW

My CEO 394

394 My Friend Mia (Cass)

I pull my jacket on. Ziggy leans against the counter, arms crossed, his face a mix of disappointment and frustration.

"What the fuck is an extended break anyway? Fucking stupid," I spit out.

"It's the next step of being fired. You were late again. Third time this week." His voice is quiet but firm, and it cuts through me, hitting harder than I want to admit.

I shrug, forcing a smirk, trying to make it seem like I don't care, like this doesn't sting as much as it does.

"Yeah, whatever. It's just a few minutes here and there. Not the end of the world, right?" My tone is flippant, but Ziggy's not having it. He doesn't even try to soften his expression. "Heads up their fucking asses."

"It was thirty minutes, today, Cass. Then you're busted smoking pot before you started your shift late, Cass. During a shift. I give up." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "This isn't you. I thought "Thought what?" I snap, standing a little straighter. "That I'd be perfect? I didn't sign up to be anyone's role model."

"You didn't, but I thought you cared about this job, about our friendship," he says quietly. His words land like a punch, but I don't let it show. Instead, I roll my eyes, brushing it off.

"I don't need a guilt bomb, Ziggy. Just back off," I mutter, grabbing my bag and turning away. I don't need his pity, his judgment, or the look in his eyes that says he thought I was better than this. I'm not. Outside, the wind bites against my skin as I pull my jacket tighter, heading towards the tiny apartment I spent all mom's inheritance money on. I'm not surprised to see Mia leaning against my door.

blowing up my phone all week. This day has already gone to shit, may as

"What?" My voice harsh.

cold, all traces of the casual, friendly Mia I knew fading away."

a wave of resentment bubble up. Every single friend I have hates me today. "I told you, I don't have it

voice hardens, and I can feel the shift, the chill. "I covered you when you were low, got you weed, you promised to pay me back. A few thousand isn't

She didn't sound this way when she handed me that stuff, acting like she was doing me a favor, like my best friend helping out. "Mia, I'm trying. I really am. But everything I have bills, all that stuff. People owe me money too." "Excuses," Mia snaps. "Your sister and brother-in-law are

asking Winona. No way. "That's not

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394 My Friend Mia

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a solution for you." Her tone is smooth, like she's offering a simple fix

of solution?" I

her bag. "Here," she says, holding up a small plastic bag filled with pills. "Sell these. You

you serious? If I get caught with those, I'm done. No job, no chance of getting

"Then maybe don't get caught." She slips the bag into my hand before I can protest, her expression unreadable, cold. "You owe me, Cass. This isn't a joke. The people I get this from aren't

pounds, a mix of fear and anger tightening my chest. "You didn't say