Page 6 of A Lot Like Adiós
Heart breaking, she’d ripped up the ticket—just a printout, but it gave her some small satisfaction—and told him to leave and never come back.
And he had.
Until now.
Michelle sat right there on the floor and pulled up the email again, staring at the words.
Hi Mich.
The greeting pinged the memory of her name on his lips, with a softch, likeMish. She kept reading.
It’s Gabe.
Her Gabe. Her best friend. Once.
It’s been a long time.
No shit, Sherlock.
I didn’t know Fabian had reached out to you, and we’ll understand if you pass on this.
The Victory campaign had been Michelle’s greatest professional achievement, and also the beginning of the end of her time in corporate America. Somehow, Gabe’s business partner had found out Michelle had worked on it, and Gabe wasgiving her an out. He didn’t think she’d take the job because of him.
But then there were those final words.
I’ve missed you.
“Fuck you, Gabriel Aguilar,” she whispered at the phone as tears welled in her eyes.
How dare he miss her?Hewas the one who’d left, the one who’d ignored every single email or text she’d sent him.
Sure, she’d accept some of the blame, but after the initial anger faded, she’d tried to reach out. To bridge the distance. And he’d never replied. And now, thirteen years later, he showed up in her work email out of the blue wanting tohire her?
Michelle had imagined this moment so many times over the years, often while lying awake at night, consumed by anxiety over things she couldn’t control, reliving the final moments of their friendship.
In some of her fantasies, she bumped into him by chance on the street, like she still randomly ran into former classmates all over New York City. Sometimes she saw him first, and she’d stop, turn, and say, “Gabe?” with a mix of wonder and surprise. A light laugh and an “Oh my god, how are you?” And then a hug, both of them shaking their heads, a sort ofWow, what a small worldmoment. Other times, she imagined him spotting her first, her name on his lips. In her dreams it was always her full name, Michelle, which didn’t make any sense, because once they’d gotten to middle school, he’d started calling her Mich most of the time.
When she was really in a mood, she imagined running intohim somewhere like a bar, and stalking up to him with an indignant “You bastard!”
Never had she guessed he would reappear like this.
Michelle blinked hard and stared up at the ceiling. She hardly ever cried, and she certainly wasn’t going to shed any more tears overhim. Taking deep breaths until the pressure behind her eyes abated, she dabbed at the corners with the tips of her fingers to wipe away the moisture.
She should say no. She was a freelance graphic designer now, and she didn’t even take marketing jobs anymore, no matter how much some of her current clients hinted that they’d be happy to pay for those services.
She should ignore him. After all, that’s what he’d done to her, wasn’t it? She’d been fine all this time without him. What could he possibly add to her life now?
Then a more disturbing thought occurred to her. If she turned him down, what was to stop him from hiring the rest of the team who’d worked on Victory? Clearly Gabe and his partner knew about her old firm, Rosen and Anders, which meant they could easily reach...
Nathaniel.
“Fuck,” she hissed between her teeth.
Not Nathaniel. Anyone but that backstabbing asshole.
Getting up, Michelle went to her dad’s desk and grabbed a yellow legal pad and a pen. She took them to the sofa and plopped down on the worn leather cushions. It was time to make a Pros and Cons list. Normally she’d involve Ava in this, but she didn’t want to tell her cousin about Gabe’s email just yet.
After writing headings on the page and drawing a line downthe middle, Michelle wrote “Marketing burnout” in the Cons column. She’d quit for a reason, after all.
