“Girl, are you still tinkering with that?” Christina’s voice rings out from behind me. She’s standing in my cubicle, a light jacket pulled tight around her to chase away the hint of autumn hanging in the air. “I thought you already shared it with Barb.”
“I did, this morning. Well, I sent it to James. He wanted to see it before I formally presented it to him. I’m just proofreading,” I hedge.
“I told you, this promotion is in the bag. Your idea to start a conservation initiative in the Galápagos is killer. James is going to love it, you’ll see.”
I force my lips into the semblance of a smile. “Yeah.” At least Gustavo never told James about finding Graeme in my cabin—that’s one less roadblock to this promotion. My jaw tenses at the reminder that Graeme had been right.
Christina leans a hip against my desk. “Tory and I are headed to lunch in a few. Want to come?”
“I’d love to, but I’m already booked. Lunch with Walsh. How about a rain check? What are you doing after our soccer game on Saturday?” I finally let Christina talk me into joining her rec league. Even after two weeks, my muscles are still stiff from the new level of exercise.
She drops her chin and her dark eyes twinkle. “Can’t. Date night with the new man.”
“Ooo, is this Nerd Glasses or Man Bun?”
“Nerd Glasses. Now I know what you’re going to say. His Bumble profile was sooooo dorky, but I don’t know, he just seems… nice.”
I suppress a sigh. There is so much to be said for “nice.” “Brunch on Sunday to debrief?”
“Only if I’m not up too late the night before.” She clicks her tongue twice and points her index finger at me like she’s shooting a pistol. “I’ll text you.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
When she leaves, I check the time on my phone. Half an hour until lunch with Walsh. The photos folder beckons, but I text her instead.
How was therapy today?
Not twenty seconds later, my phone buzzes.
Super. I had a breakthrough… I think I finally hate Keith!
YES!
I text her a meme of a kitten gleefully firing a machine gun, Rambo-style.
Better than the alternative
A chill creeps down my spine and I pull my sweater tighter around myself at the prospect of what could have happened.
Should I bring home champagne tonight to celebrate?
Don’t you have class?
No, I dropped my Tuesday class remember
Ahhh okay. So just Thursdays now?
Right
Reducing my course load meant I’d extend my degree program by a couple of semesters, but what would I get in return? Sanity. Balance. And sweet, sweet free time to spend with the people most important to me—like Walsh. My phone buzzes again.
