Page 97 of She Was Made for Me

Imanage to get an early flight out of New York the next day, arriving home in time to change before heading to the office.

My apartment looks exactly the same when I finally let myself inside. I don’t know what I was expecting. Just because I’ve lived an entire lifetime and become a different person in my time away doesn’t mean that anything here has changed. My apartment is as charmless and impersonal as it always was, and for a second I stand in the doorway wondering if I dreamed the entire thing; being let go, flying to New York, managing the restoration of the house on Fruit Street, and falling in love.

If it wasn’t for the hollow pain in my chest, I might even believe I did.

I drag my bone-tired body into the shower with a deep sigh. I didn’t sleep at all last night and not because Sadie and Tim were having sex. They were surprisingly restrained, instead sitting on the sofa and listening to me pour my heart out. Tim even gave me a hug before heading off to bed, but Sadie hauled her comforter out into the living room and curled up on pillows on the floor beside the sofa, refusing to leave me alone.

For a long time, I cried in the darkness, thinking not just of Kyle, but of my friend and her kindness, of the city I knew I would miss, of that beautiful cabin in Maine that I’d never see again. Then I cried for what Dad told me, that I hadn’t disappointed him, that he was so proud. I’d never realized, but seventeen-year-old me had waited to hear that for a long time. Now, she didn’t know what to do with it.

Long after I thought she was asleep, Sadie whispered to me in the darkness, “Are you okay, Vi?”

I sniffled into my pillow. “I will be.”

There was a long pause, during which it felt like Sadie and I were back at high school, lying on the floor in her mom’s basement, refusing to sleep because we wanted to talk about boys all night instead. I knew in that moment I was really going to miss her when I went home, and my eyes pricked with tears again.

“Are you sure…” She hesitated for a beat, as if considering whether to actually ask the question. “Are you sure this is the right thing to do?”

“No. I’m not sure at all.” My words had surprised me. I’d spent all evening convincing myself that I was doing the right thing, that it was best for everyone. It wasn’t until my friend asked me, alone in the darkness, that I let myself face the truth.

“Maybe you could try talking to your mom about it?” she suggested. I had considered that, more than once, but I could never ask Mom to lie to Dad for me. And I’m not entirely sure she’d be all that impressed with me getting together with Kyle, either.

“I can’t.”

“It’s such a shame,” Sadie said. “You’ve been like a different person since you came back, in a good way. I’ve never seen you so happy.”

And I’d never felt so happy, but was that worth hurting Dad for? Losing his respect and everything I’d finally got from him? Was it worth passing up this huge opportunity for my career?

I had no answers, so I stayed quiet. Besides, I’d already made my decision. Kyle was leaving town and I had a plane ticket for early in the morning. I couldn’t change my mind now.

“I’m going to miss you,” she whispered into the quiet, and that’s the last thing she said before finally falling asleep.

I switch the shower off and step from the steam, looking at myself in the fogged-up mirror. This is the first summer in years where I’ve gotten a tan, and if it wasn’t for the dark circles under my eyes and permanent downturn to my mouth, I’d say I look better for it.

Thankfully, my concealer works wonders. The smile is harder to fake, but I tell myself it will get easier with time.

It has to.

* * *

Deb greetsme with coffee at the office—something I’m not used to, given it’s always been my job. She throws her arms around me in the foyer, giving me a face full of ebony curls as she squeezes tightly.

“I’m so glad you’re back, Vi!”

Her enthusiasm coaxes a small smile from me, and I step away, adjusting my blazer as she grins. “Thanks, Deb. For all this.”

She hands me a cup. “Of course. I meant everything I said. You deserve it. In all the time you’ve been my assistant, you’ve been like an assistant project manager anyway.”

In the glass and mirror-lined elevator, I realize for the first time how shiny this place is, how polished and reflective and modern. I miss the textured plaster walls of the townhouse on Fruit Street, the creak of the oak stairs, the worn wooden floorboards under my feet. My first instinct at this thought is to text Kyle, to tell him how much I miss the house—how much I misshim—but as soon as I notice my hand snaking toward my purse for my phone, I let it fall back to my side. I can’t text him and tell him those things. That wouldn’t be fair.

Besides, I tell myself, this is what a workplace should look like. Modern and professional. Not some hundred-and-fifty-year-old house where you sneak off to fuck the foreman in the bathroom. It’s as if I’ve forgotten what it means to be professional, and I grimace, reminding myself what an incredible opportunity this is for me, what a massive step forward it is in my career.

The elevator lets us out on the third floor and I follow the click of Deb’s heels across the open-plan office to the doors along the far wall. A few people call out in greeting and say how good it is to see me, and I muster a wave and nod in response.

For some bizarre reason I feel like I might cry, so I focus on taking deep breaths as we head for Scott’s office. This is what happens when you don’t sleep all night, then jump to a different time zone and immediately start a new job. It messes with your system.

Deb raps on Scott’s door, then steps inside with me in tow. Scott leans back in his desk chair, clasping his hands behind his head when he sees me. He’s the picture of relaxation, and I think of my promise to Kyle. Maybe working with Scott will be easier than I’d thought. Maybe life could be different this time.

“Glad to have you back, Violet.” He rises from his chair to shake my hand. We know each other well, but I appreciate the way he’s trying to make me feel welcome again.

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