Ella only stayed for a week this time around.
She found a great deal and flew to Brazil to scout places for her year of adventure. She’s been FaceTiming me every chance she gets to show me the cute apartment she found or the view of the beach I just have to see. I still don’t know if I’m going, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t very tempting.
On the other hand, Delilah has been obsessively texting me each morning with a “Fun Fact of the Day” where she tells me another reason I should commit to being on Real Love. These range from quick pictures of something she thinks will persuade me to novel-length stories about new opportunities coming to her every day. These have been fun and pretty stress-free until last night when she texted me, informing me that the producers moved up the start date. I’d had a few more weeks before I had to give them an answer, and now they need it by tomorrow.
Everyone is waiting for me to give them answers I don’t have.
Except for Kai. Of course my sweet Kai isn’t pushing at all, just checking in and reassuring me that whatever decision I make will be right and he’ll support me no matter what I choose.
I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I do know what I’m not doing.
My chest hurts, my head is killing me, and I haven’t been able to eat a full meal since I made my decision. It wasn’t an easy choice and a lot is still unknown, but I’m relieved to finally take something off my list. Even if it means I feel like I’m being trampled by a herd of elephants.
I knock on Greg’s office door. His head shoots up from whatever document he’s studying and a welcoming smile crosses his kind face. “Hey, Maya.” He gestures to the chair I’ve become so familiar with over the last few weeks. “Come on in. Take a seat.”
“Thank you.” I eye the trash can in the corner of his office in case I need to use it. I’m sweating profusely and my stomach feels like it may turn on me at any moment. I take one step in and, just as fast, nearly pivot on my heel and run back to my desk to stay there forever…where it’s safe and predictable and boring.
But I don’t.
One foot in front of the other, I cross the small space and sit. I have no idea what I’m going to say. It’s the first time I’m making myself a priority and it’s so scary. It’s so much easier when I can blame my problems on other people.
Will my parents be eternally disappointed in me? Possibly. Will I squander all my money, become unemployable, and end up moving in with Delilah? Also possible.
I’ve lain in bed every night for the last week going over every worst-case scenario. But even as bad as they were—one fairly dark one was that the news would cause my parents to both have heart attacks—one thing was abundantly clear: I have to get off this merry-go-round. I can’t keep doing the same things and expecting a new outcome. That is, after all, the very definition of insanity.
I think about the salary I’m giving up and consider the very plausible idea that I’m not thinking clearly at all and this might be a mistake.
“So what can I help you with?” Greg asks when I sit in silence for a few moments too long. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh. Um…yeah, everything is totally fine.” Oh? Um? Totally fine? Get it together, Maya! I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Yes, everything is fine.” My voice is strong and steady even though I still feel like a wreck inside. “I’m so grateful to you both for giving me the opportunity to become director. It was all I wanted for years, and I can’t put into words how much it meant to reach that goal.”
Greg is watching me intently, his welcoming smile transforming to a sad one as I speak.
“I feel a ‘but’ coming soon,” Greg says, confirming that he’s read my intention correctly.
I nod, certain my expression matches his.
“But lately I’ve come to realize that as much as I thought this position is what I wanted, it’s not what I needed.” Every ounce of hesitation and fear I had going into this conversation disappears and is replaced with relief so stark it brings tears to my eyes. “I’m sorry for such late notice, but today is going to be my last day. I have compiled all of my information on my clients and given them to Julie. She’s up-to-date and ready to provide them with a smooth transition, and I think either Leon or Jackson will make a great director.”
“Wow.” He sits straighter in his chair, and even though he knew what was coming, I can tell the suddenness of my departure has thrown him for a loop. “Is there anything I can say to convince you to stay?”
“Probably,” I say honestly. “But please don’t. Even if this turns out to be a mistake, it’s one I need to make.”
“Well then.” He pushes his chair back and stands. “We’re going to miss you, but I have a feeling this won’t be a mistake. Whatever you do, I know you’ll succeed.”
“Thank you.” I shake his hand, and when I walk out of his office, I feel like I could fly, and it’s all the confirmation I needed to know this was the right decision.
So instead of walking straight to my desk and packing up the few little trinkets I have, I take a small detour.
Bailey’s long hair looks as beautiful as ever as she sits in her cubicle, focusing on the monitors in front of her. She’s usually busy flitting around the office, catching up on and spreading gossip, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her sitting like this. I knock on the cubicle wall and she spins in her chair. The bright smile on her face falls as soon as she sees me.
We have avoided each other since she left my apartment. Even though she said some pretty messed-up things, I’m not mad at her. I understand better than most what it feels like to not feel good enough and be overlooked. And I know hurt people hurt people. Do I love her budding friendship with Vaughn? Not really, but I hold no ill feelings. I hope she’ll come around and see that.
“Hi?” she says, but it sounds more like a question. I don’t miss her eyes as they shift around and I can tell she’s planning her escape.
“Hi. So listen.” I dive right in. I’m not here for small talk. “I want you to know that even though some of the things you said really hurt my feelings”—she opens her mouth to defend her herself, but I continue—“I’m not mad at you. I understand that you wanted what Delilah had, but I hope in your future friendships when you’re feeling like that, you speak up and tell them that you’re hurting. You were trying to compete with people who weren’t running the same race as you. This didn’t have to happen. You could’ve won without making us lose.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, and I believe her. “I hope I can make it up to you.”
“You don’t need to make it up to me. I’m not mad.” I used to carry things with me for so long, but this feels so much better. I thought about asking her what was going on between her and Vaughn, but then I realized it’s not my business and I don’t care. “I put in my notice with Greg and today is my last day. I only came over here to tell you that I really hope you find your happiness one day and I’m grateful for the good times we did have together.”
All traces of sadness leave her face and shock takes over, which is fair seeing as I’ve shocked myself. “You’re leaving?”
“Going to pack up my office now.” Saying it out loud for the first time causes the reality of what I’ve done and the opportunities in front of me to set in. I thought this would feel like panic, but instead I feel like I could fly. Like the entire world just opened up for me.
“Where are you going to go?” Bailey asks.
I tell her the truth. “I’m not sure yet. But I know it’s going to be good.”
My little cardboard box filled with frames, highlighters, and a pencil holder is sitting on my dining room table right next to my laptop. I have two missed calls from Ella and three from Delilah.
A website with flight tickets is on the computer screen. Prices for options to Brazil, Los Angeles, and Seattle are on three separate tabs I keep clicking between. For once, numbers aren’t saving me. Flight numbers, prices, and departure times all blur together until I give up and slam my computer shut.
I walk through my apartment, acutely aware of how empty it is. Unassembled boxes and rolls of duct tape lean against my bare walls. I push aside the unopened packages of packing paper cluttering my counters and pull out a glass to make a Crown and Coke.
“If any night calls for alcohol, it’s this one,” I say to nobody at all.
The sound of the Coke can opening goes off like a shot in the silence as I top off the uncharacteristically heavy pour of whiskey. I raise the glass to my lips, and when I do, the glimpse of the pie Kai made me catches my eye from the corner of my kitchen.
I put my glass on the counter and walk over to my favorite, and currently only, piece of art. I let my fingers gently trace the stem of the cherry, marveling at how Kai made something so beautiful and strong out of something delicate and mundane. I inspect the glitter now encased in glass, tucked in tight but still giving the effect of spreading throughout the pie. I remember how happy I was in that art class after Sofia shared her precious sparkle with me. How even though I objectively failed, I accomplished everything I came for.
Certainty spreads through me like color through clear glass.
I sprint across my apartment, my feet slipping on the smooth wood floors, and I race to my computer, afraid that I’ll talk myself out of it at any second.
I enter my password and the screen filled with flight options comes to life.
I exit out of two screens and choose my one-way ticket. I click through the pages as fast as I can, only scrolling down to pick the perfect window seat with extra legroom…it’s not a short flight after all. My fingers fly across the keyboard as I fill in my name and credit card information until the confirmation number appears on my screen.
I close my computer, gently this time, and walk back to my full glass. I lift it and offer a toast to no one and everyone before I bring it to my lips and drain every last drop.