Chapter Text
It started simple. With a soft hand on the back, a gentle slap on the wrist. A lifetime lack of tenderness unravelling. Someone who was there for him. Someone who believed in him.
Then it was insanity. Desire like a gun to the head. The understanding that only comes from pain and suffering; he loved Gerri, he wanted Gerri. He didn’t know if he could fuck her but he wanted to try. For the first time in his life, he felt like maybe he could.
And after everything, one wrong button pressed and the world imploded.
And then … nothing. Silence was a weapon and she pointed it at his chest. She betrayed him, he betrayed her. It was over.
*
Message 1, three days after she last saw him, pressed tight against Kendall’s shoulder:
I’m sorry, Gerri. For everything.
Message 2, the next day:
I shouldn’t have fired you.
Message 3, two hours after:
Either time. And I didn’t mean what I said, either. Obviously. Not only are you good at your job, you’re the best job-doer who ever graced the executive floor at Waystar.
Message 4, two weeks later:
I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I know I shouldn’t, anyway. You probably have me blocked and will never see these messages or sue me into oblivion. At least that way I’ll get to see you in court I guess?
Message 5, one month later:
Since you’re probably not reading these and haven’t sued me (yet) I might as well continue? Get if off my chest.
So here’s my purse full of sorries, if I can quote myself.
Sorry 1: You said you could have got me there but I was too dumb and self-involved to actually believe you. I’m sorry for that. I guess for some reason way beyond anyone’s imagination I had no faith in myself and therefore in us. So much for Rockstar and mole woman.
Sorry 2: You said to stop sending you the items and I didn’t. And you never even replied. I guess I thought you might enjoy them even though you explicitly told me you don’t. That’s fucked up and I am so, so sorry.
Sorry 4: You said you can’t say I’m as capable as my dad and believe it. And I fired you because I was hurt. Because your opinion mattered more to me than anyone’s. Because I’d fired you before and it felt like a “Dad” thing to do. I’m sorry because it was reckless and stupid. But most of all I’m sorry because I said you’re bad at your job, because that’s not even remotely true. There’s no other stone cold killer bitch I’d trust to get my ass out of prison or, you know, any general mess.
Sorry 5: I’m sorry because I keep sending these even though you explicitly told me not to contact you. Some things never change, do they?