The sight of myself in the poorly lit mirror disappoints me.
I hate how he has this effect on me. I hate how he’s made me believe that I can’t accomplish the things I set my mind to. But before I have the chance to gather myself, the bathroom door swings open.
The sound makes me flinch, and I’m hiding my face from whoever’s walking in when she says, “What’s wrong, Vivienne?”
I turn to find Evelyn, her brows furrowed and her lips curved downward. She looks like a sad teddy bear in her skirt, signature knee-high boots, and blouse combo.
If I weren’t so adamant on hiding this part of my lab life, I’d force her to drop her books in her arms and embrace me in the fattest hug.
“I made my molecule!” I try my best to sound excited, but it’s hollow.
Evelyn’s frown deepens. “Those don’t look like happy tears.”
I shift my gaze down to the floor, not wanting to rehash my earlier thoughts and feelings. Unfortunately for me, that girl knowseverything,andit wouldn’t be the first time she’s caught me in a similar state.
“It’s Arjun, isn’t it?” She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Say the words, Vivienne, and I’ll gladly sacrifice my medical degree to do all kinds of fucked-up, nasty, and illegal things to him. Just focus on the good—you made your compound.” Evelyn squeezes my shoulder in reassurance. “And you got the guy. What more could you ask for?”
When I meet her with a flat-lipped smile, she only mirrors my expression.
“What?” Evelyn asks as if she already knows she’s right. “Don’t think we haven’t taken note of your absence from your bed these past three weeks.”
My eyes widen at her confrontation, and a feral blush creeps up my cheeks.
I thought I’d been discreet, sneaking out of the apartment from the fire escape rather than the front door, but I guess they’ve caught on.
Although Nate’s and my nights usually ended with the activities she’s hinting at with the playful wiggle of her brows, it was no longer about that.
We also got together for the smaller things. Cooking dinner. Watching rom-coms. Talking about each other’s days, worries, and accomplishments.
Our lives had gotten increasingly busier since we’ve come back from Chicago, and evenings were the only times we got to see each other.
Obviously, I haven’t invited Nate over to our place so openly yet, and judging by her reaction, I made the right choice. They’d tie the poor guy to a chair and never let him out.
“Have you told him yet?” Evelyn asks.
“About the compound?”
I pull out my phone to do just that. Nate answers immediately, and the smile that spreads across my face is painfully bright.
Vivienne:You know all those hours we spent working at the hotel. It all paid off. I made my compound!
Nate:That’s my girl. I always knew you could do it. I’d say that calls for a celebration.
Warmth spreads through me at his use ofmy girl, and though I try to shove back the butterflies in their cage, it’s too late. They've been fluttering widely these past few weeks.
“Have you told him that you like him?” Evelyn clarifies her question.
My face falls.
We decided to go with the flow, take things easy, and not think too much about what might happen after the engagement is over.
We do still pay our dues and go on our one public date a week for appearances’ sake, but the rest, we try to keep to ourselves. Things are going well in our professional and private lives—there’s no need to ruin something good over unwanted external pressures.
“You do realize he likes you back. Right, Vivienne?” Evelyn continues her line of interrogation like it’s obvious.
I walk out of the bathroom in the hopes of avoiding this conversation when the click-clacking of her heels follows me.
“Vivienne!” she whisper-yells. “Get back here, you little rascal.”
