“You’re right. It can’t happen again.” She looks down at her bowl, pushing vegetables around with her spoon. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”
I groan, rubbing a hand over my face. How am I supposed to eat when she’s saying things like that? My stomach twists and turns like I’m on a boat. I set my bowl aside, abandoning the idea of dinner completely.
“You can tell anyone you want,” I say. “We can tell HR if that makes you more comfortable. This isn’t supposed to be a… a dirty secret.”
It’s not a secret—it was a mistake, but saying it aloud will only make her feel worse. The thought splinters off and settles next to the torn-up pieces of my heart.
“But I don’t want that.” She shakes her head. “I like my job.”
“You won’t lose your job. I can have you relocated. You can work for someone else or in another part of the office. Maybe for Christine. You like her, right?”
“I guess.” Her face screws up like she may cry, and the boat in my stomach rocks harder.
“It’s just for the summer, right?” I murmur.
“Right.” Her shoulders slump. “But I don’t want to leave…”
“Then what do you want to do?”
“It’s a summer job, like you said.” She exhales. “We can forget it and be professional foroneseason. Right?”
I was the one to mention professionalism, but she says it now—like a challenge—and I doubt myself. I doubtus. How are we supposed to pretend nothing ever happened? I would kiss her again if she asked, professionalism be damned.
“Right,” I say, without feeling the words.
That’s that, I guess.
We finally finish the documentary—without saying another word. The silence between us is no longer the comfortable quiet I’m used to. It’s thick, with each of us tiptoeing around the broken pieces of desire I’ve left on the ground.
But I didn’t leave my need for her behind at all, did I? It’s still with me, more prominent than ever, when we crawl off to separate beds. I can’t find any relief. She’s still all that’s on my mind.
EVIE
This is my happy face. I’m so happy it hurts. It really,reallyhurts.
I spend the morning on calls, he spends the morning in the forest, and I wear my happiest face. Everyone I have a call with can see me smiling ear-to-ear as if I’m not… if I’m not…
What is wrong with me?
In reality, nothing is happening, and I’m completely fine. This isn’t a breakup. It’s not a rejection. I don’t need to feel so down in the dumps, but Ido. Wanting someone and knowing they want you, but being unable to have each other, has to be the worst feeling. I would rather be rejected.
I close my laptop, and the smile finally slides from my face. My gaze lands on the blank wall in front of me. Life would have been much easier if I had worked at my brother’s shop. Sure, my pockets would be lighter, but at least I wouldn’t be stuck with a man who doesn’t want me around.
Or maybe he does want me. I don’t know—I’m done pretending I understand the first thing about Theo Roche.
Either way, it’s complicated. He’s right. I like my job, and we have to keep it professional. Even if I were willing to give up the job, Theo would not want to be with me. Everett already told me exactly what kind of man he is. His work always comes first. He doesn’t even date.
This is so silly. I should have known better.
My finger hovers over my phone, right over Everett’s contact. We’ve only been talking over text since I arrived in Finland, but he’s not worried about me. Of course, he’s not—I’m here with his friend. There’s nothing to worry about.
The door opens, and I close my eyes, willing for it to be anyone else stomping inside. Be a murderer. Be one of my coworkers—well, not creepy Rod, but someone else.
No one else has the key, so it’s unsurprising when Theo is the one who speaks.
“Want to get lunch?” he asks. “My treat.”
I force another smile. “It’salwaysyour treat.”
