Page 50 of Loathing My Boss
I can’t have made her double hate me.
Nothing’s changed, except perhaps some of the things we’ve left unspoken are now in the open, where we can possibly address them.
Grow from them, even.
What if this isn’t the end? What if this is a beginning that I’m about to throw away?
I should go back, apologize, put my actions and feelings into words, ask her how she’d like to proceed. If she needs time, I’m happy to give it to her. I’m happy to give her absolutely anything.
What am I doing?
I need to go back into that tiny room with her anduse my words. I’m an author. You’d think this would come easily to me. You’d think—
To my left, a car in the dirt lot starts up, so I fix my attention on the noise and watch Crisis’s light blue Camry peel out of its spot. It hits the winding road without pausing to check for traffic. A second passes, and it’s gone. She’s gone.
Just like that.
So. Yeah.
Okay…
Never mind.
I return to my search for that lake.
Chapter 18
?
Born to self-regulate; forced to do it manually.
Crisis
“Well, it’s about time,” Crimson says, nearly stopping my heart as I take a turn way too fast. Thankfully, the roads out here are empty.
Still, I slow down.
So the car will be quieter when I yell, “Whatdo you meanit’s about time!”
“Viktor’s been in love with you for forever and a day.”
What?What?I’m so sorry. WHAT?
“And you didn’t tell me?” I blurt.
She hums, probably getting her pretty nails done or something else very calm and chill, because she’s actingvery calm and chill. Like an ice cube. “It wasn’t my secret to tell, Cris. That would be like telling him about the email.”
She’s not wrong, of course. She’s never been wrong. Not even once in her whole life. She’s perfect. Everyone around me isperfect.
And I have no idea why they bother putting up with imperfect me.
“My boss sexually assaults me, and all you can say isit’s about time?” I blink back tears. “Aren’t you supposedto be out for blood? I’myourwife. This horrible, horriblemanis coming into our marriage!”
“Oh please, Crisis. He pecked your lips, then panicked and ran away. If I know anything about Viktor, we’re lucky he doesn’t have easy access to a bathtub and a toaster at that writer’s retreat.”
I do not like that Crimson knows anything about Viktor in the same way I do not like that Viktor knows anything about Crimson. They are separate worlds in my mind, and the idea that they overlap with histories that I wasn’t a part of makes me insecure. “It’s still harassment,” I say. “Even if it was brief. Or he regrets it.”
And of course he’d regret it. I was crying. I was amess. I doubt he left in a panic because he cared how I felt. He probably had to throw up.
