Page 12 of Lessons in Forgiving
“You don’t know how glad I am to see you here. What are you up to?”
But at least people still loved me here.
“No matter.” Lacy waved me off before I could say a word. The expectant smile on my lips fell. “Would you mind grabbing me a coffee from the machine downstairs? I—” She gestured to her computer screen. “Am swamped with this, and I have to hand it in for editing in an hour.” Lacy winced a laugh, like she knew she’d get away with it regardless.
Maybe I should clarify some things.
My peers’ love and respect went as far as their love for coffee that wasn’t filtered. “Oh! Did you bring another batch of your vegan choc chip cookies, by the way? The sugar really got my brain going the other day.”Andbaked goods.
I huffed, catching Riley’s eye roll in my periphery. Her head shook in exasperation, and it took everything in me not to break into a smile.
“Sorry, Lacy.” I turned back to the blonde, and I wished I could say her round, piercing blue eyes were only half as mesmerizing after almost four years. “No cookies today.”
She pouted. “How about that coffee, though?”
And those coffee runs had become so common, I didn’t have to ask how she’d like it. Two cream, one sugar. “Sure.”
Lacy exhaled loudly with relief. “You’re an angel,” she said, then disappeared behind her screen again. I wasn’t surprised.
The only thing surprising was finding Eddie in the door when I turned.
“Actually.” He cleared his throat, clearly having followed our brief conversation. “Paula, would you mind?”
He gestured into the hallway, and I honest to God thought Edward Smith was ushering me along for Lacy’s coffee. But instead, he said, “I’d like to talk to you about something. Sorry, Lacy!” He added across his shoulder, not at all apologetic when he gave her a last lingering look. “And get that article done. Fifty-seven minutes. Tick, tock.” He tapped the watch on his wrist and then disappeared through the door, expecting me to follow.
We walked the hall aimlessly. Past the rec room, the media labs, and when we passed his office—its door, as always, slightly ajar—and all he’d said was “So.” I wondered where this was going.
Usually, serious conversations with Edward Smith happened in that office.
After the article last year, he’d taken me exactly there. Where he’d told me I’d misquoted, and my source had filed a complaint to the SPJ’s ethics committee. Which couldn’t be scratched out of my record until that same source withdrew it or the claim had been without-a-doubt disproven. The burden of proof wasn’t on the complainant.
“I’ve been thinking,” Eddie finally said, mercifully dragging me out of my own head and my eyes away from his office just before we started descending the stairs.
And it occurred to me right there. Halfway down the staircase leading to the exit.
He was walking me out.
Literallywalking me out of the building, about to send me on my way with aGood luck!followed by aLet me know if you ever make it out there! I doubt it.Just to make sure I wouldn’t come back. Maybe the way I’d thrown myself in front of him last week really had been the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Jesus Christ, I was about to get fired. From a job that didn’t even pay me.
My breath hitched in my throat. “Me, too. Actually.” The words just shot out—to avoid or at the very least delay that outcome. “About thePost. And me.” Reaching the massive doors leading outside, I dared a glance at the man beside me when he held one open for me.
His blond hair. The small, crooked mouth. Brown eyes, perfectly curved nose. Round cheeks. At just twenty-six—a year into his English PhD—Edward Smith did not look like a man who was about to crush my dreams.
Those small lips were tilted up. Just slightly, right in the corners. Hard to spot, but valid. Right?
Then again, the rest of his body looked tense. Like he wasn’t quite sure what to do, either.
I began rambling. “I’m sorry for last week. And last year. I think if you gave me another shot—”
Eddie shook his head quickly. That weird tilt of his lips finally developed into a smile.
Maybe he was more sadistic than I thought, and hewasactually enjoying this. “Why don’t I start,” he suggested. “I know what you want to say. Trust me, it’ll be unnecessary by the time I’m done.”
Something inside of me shattered. The hope I’d still had left or my heart or whatever plan of the future I’d envisioned over the past years. Everything I’d worked toward, maybe.
All those faked exam results I’d sent my parents. All that lying and deceiving had led me here.Dios, I should’ve stuck with my business degree.
