Never Got Over You by Whitney G.

Nine and a half years ago, you married a man who wasn’t me. He wasn’t even half of me…
Nine and a half hours ago, you walked through the doors of my billion-dollar boardroom for a job interview. Although every person at the table fell for your charm and applauded, I didn’t dare. I couldn’t help but notice your bare ring finger. Couldn’t help but notice that you were even sexier now than you were on the night we first met.

I honestly didn’t want to hire you, but I had no choice. (I was outvoted 16-1, but trust me, you got this job by default.) When you signed the papers and we shook hands, I didn’t bring up the fact that you didn’t “wait for me” like you promised to years ago, or that you just moved on with your life like what we had meant nothing. Instead, I insisted that we keep things one-hundred percent professional.

So, for the record: I’ve long forgotten about you and all the times we shared. (This includes the way your body feels under mine, the way your laughter used to make me smile, and the way you used to breathlessly say my name for hours at a time.) I’m definitely not in denial, this is all one hundred percent true. You’ll never hear me say that you still have an effect on me, that you’re still the best I’ve ever had, or worse, that I never got over you…