Page 54 of Loathing My Boss
“Strange. I pegged you as more of afightnotflightgirl.” He approaches, lifts my chin in his cold fingers, and says, “Do me a favor…since you’re clearly undecided where Viktor’s concerned…give him a chance. All of us were raised to be very, veryadaptable.” The word leaves him with the undertone of a growl, and I step out of his touch. He splays his fingers in defense before tucking his hand back in his pocket. “Sorry. I just mean that you won’t find someone better than Viktor, and when a Bachelor brother loves someone, we’ll snap our own bones for their sake. If you don’t like him now, he’ll change for you. You just have to tell him which parts to cleave away.”
Broken, I say, “I don’t want…to hurt him anymore.”
Humming, he turns on the heel of his slick black shoe. “How odd. In our line of work…wouldn’t you call thatcharacter development?”
As he leaves, my own words haunt me.
I don’t want to hurt Viktor anymore.
But what Idowant?
That still eludes me.
Chapter 19
?
Someone get me a good cop.
Crisis
I have never seen something more beautiful in my life, and I am infinitely glad I dragged myself back to camp, back to the terror of givingwhateveris or isn’t happening between Viktor and I a chance.
Why?
Because,soup bar.
Soup and grilled cheese bar, to be more precise.
Forget Viktor! Forgetconfessions. Forget everything.
Everything but the many soups steaming before me and the self-serve grilled cheese presses beyond them.
I’m ravenously hungry.
Probably because my heart has been beating at twice the normal speed ever since I got back, found Viktor seated on our bed with his head in his hands, and locked eyes with him.
Staring dead at someone for three minutes ishard work. Especially when you both open your mouth at the same time, fumble through the dreadedsorry, no, you first; no, you first; no, I mean it, I’m sorry, you gogymnastics, and end up with the other person providing an earth-shattering:you came back.
Right about the time you are, of course, infinitely regretting your decision tocome back.
Chirping,Yup! And it’s dinner time; let’s go eat, was not my proudest moment. I do not have a proudest moment, actually, only a long list of moments that keep me up at night.
Viktor serves himself a bowl of tomato soup. Classic. Safe.
I gohog wildand get the broccoli cheese first. A littlehint hint, nudge nudgefor my boss—if he is still my boss. He may have let me go earlier. I’m unclear on that right now while I’m desperately trying to avoid verbalizingI’m insane, and you’d be crazy to like me. Dipping a grilled cheese sandwich into anything other than tomato soup feels like excellent code for that sentiment.
To further the analogy, I use every cheese available, ripping slices up and setting the excess on my napkin as I manually shred the bits into a pile before pressing them in the machine, so the flavors will mix into one chaotic mess.
Symbolism.
This is my brain, Viktor.
Isthiswhat youwant?
Don’t be ridiculous.
Sitting together in the furthest corner of the room alone, I clear my throat and glance toward Viktor’s tray.
