Ugh. I just wanted to get this over with. “I decided to go back to school,” I said. “I’m going to finish.”
“You can be an architectnow, Julia. You have a degree. I don’t get why you wouldn’t just take the test and start working.”
I was already irritated at him, and it had only been like thirtyseconds. He was right. I had my bachelor’s degree; I had completed my supervised hours. “Because I need to finish what I started, Hayes.”
“Well, I have something I need to say…”
I steeled myself. At what point did I quit letting him down easy? At what point did I draw a hard line?
“Someone’s moving in with me.”
For a split second, I wondered why he felt it important to tell me that. Ben from work who had just gotten transferred? Alex from college who seemed destined for a life of couch surfing? Then, I felt all the blood rush to my head. “Someone?”
There was silence on the other line. “Another woman,” he said quietly. “I know it’s probably a shock. But I felt like I should tell you.”
Probably a shock? Probably ashock? No. A shock is a shaved head. A shock is quitting your job on a whim. “Hayes, you were with me in the islands like a hot minute ago. You were begging me to take you back. How could you possibly have met someone new and gotten serious that quickly?” There was silence again on the other end of the line and then all the pieces suddenly came together. “Oh my God. Chrissy Matthews is moving in with you.”
“Well…”
I couldn’t breathe. The sadness of being away from Hayes came in waves every day. I knew it would take a long time for my heart to really heal. But this was a new feeling: Rage. Distress. Proof. He had lied to me. I had almost agreed to spend the rest of my life with him.
I scoffed, anger rising in me. “Wow. That’s just. Wow.” I didn’t want him back, but I also couldn’t believe he would so flagrantly disrespect me. It was shocking.
“Look, Jules, I don’t want to dredge up old wounds—”
“Old wounds!” I spat. “Hayes, they’re wounds from like a week ago. They don’t even have scabs, for God’s sake!”
“Well, you didn’t seem to have too much trouble moving on,” he said.
I was so shocked it took me a minute to figure out what he was talking about. “You mean Conner? The guy I made out with in the islands and will probably never see again? Yeah. I’ll get you our Save the Date real soon.”
I opened the email app on my phone—an almost unconscious but terrible multitasking habit I knew I needed to break—as Hayes was saying something that no longer seemed that interesting or important. Something like, “I’m sorry if this hurts you, but I can’t stay stuck in the past.”
I was getting ready to say “Thank God I didn’t marry you,” when I noticed an email from Conner.
Conner and I hadn’t spoken since I’d left the islands, but we had had a brief email exchange. He had told me to send him the failed project, that architecture was often about making it work, not starting over, and he wanted to see if he could help. I had stayed up way too late the night before working on it. But, after not seeing it for months, coming back to my plans with fresh eyes gave me an entirely new perspective. I was proud of the changes I’d made, but I wanted another set of eyes on them before I presented them to the true judge and jury: Professor Winchester.
“Hayes, I have to go,” I said.
“Julia!” he protested as I hung up. It was a poetic moment. I was hanging up on my past while opening an email that could define my future.
Jules, this is genius,the email from Conner read.I have a couple small tweaks, but your revisions are amazing. You’ve created something brilliant.
As I opened the new CAD files on my phone, glancing at the graduated living facility layout, I finally felt like I could exhale. Just a few tweaks to the “pod” living areas—mostly to get the nurses’ stations up to Americans with Disability Act standards—and my plans would be ready.
I sat down, leaned my head back, and took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I was confident now that my plans were fresh and imaginative and, as I had learned we all must do every now and then, also followed the rules.
“Are you okay?” Babs asked, peering at me on the slate front stoop. I hadn’t even heard her open the door.
I had a lot to tell her. She sat down beside me.
“Babs, I quit my program because I thought I was going to fail my final project.”
She squinted at me but said nothing. I recapped my conversation with Conner and showed her my phone with his encouraging comments.
“I was too ashamed to risk failing and having to start over, so I quit instead. The professor made me feel… I don’t know. Like I had chosen the wrong path. That I didn’t have a right to be an architect. It’s stupid, but it really messed me up.”
She smiled at me. “Honey, that isn’t stupid. That’s life. We go to some great lengths to preserve ourselves. But sometimes it backfires and what you thought would help makes it a thousand times worse.”
