“I didn’t know it was that late,” he grumbles as he looks out the window.
“Of course, you didn’t,” I snap back.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you don’t need a plan. Why would you care about sleeping away half the day? You just wing it, right?!” The words are shrill. Holland is now out of the bed and staring at me from across the room. When he doesn’t respond, I keep going. “You may be able to float through your days, doing whatever needs to be done, but that isn’t how I operate. People count on me. I need to be responsible.”
“Just because I don’t choose to over-plan and prepare for any situation that could possibly happen doesn’t mean I’m not responsible.” His voice sounds foreign to me. “Do you even know what they want yet? Or are you just freaking out to freak out?”
My jaw is clenched. If it wasn’t, it’d be hanging open.
“What they need isn’t the point, Holland!”
“Then what is the point?! Explain it to me.”
“This is my job! I’ve worked hard to be in this position and being reliable is a key part of that.” Tears pool in my eyes.
“So predictable.” He runs one hand through his hair.
“What do you mean?
“Isn’t that what you want? The ability to plan everything down to the nittiest grittiest detail. And not experience anything surprising, ever?”
“When it comes to my job, yes. That would be nice,” I say. My voice is smug.
“You are something else. I wish you’d wake up and see that work is only a single part of you. A measly part of your life.”
“How can you stand there and lecture me about work? You live at your job. You come running whenever there’s the smallest issue. You haven’t told me about a single friend, vacation, upcoming event in your life that’s nothere. You seem awfully connected to this job.”
I see my blow lands.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think I do; you just don’t want to hear it.” I’m standing at this point. “I have to go back to this job once this is over. Whatever this is.” I throw my hands up. I’m only staying here a few more days.” My heart hurts as I say it, but I don’t want Holland to see.
“Right. Whatever this is.” Holland picks up his clothes from the night before and puts them on. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.”
He doesn’t look my way as he walks past me and straight out of my room.
When the door shuts, my heart cracks right down the middle.
Voicemails first. Inbox second.
I cry as I check the voicemails from Royce, Jack, and Stella. Royce needed to push the meeting out one more day, Jack was calling because Royce couldn’t get a hold of me, and Stella had a clarification on the contract that was easier to talk through versus email.
Everything at work is fine. Nothing is urgent. No one is upset. Jack seemed a little annoyed, but he doesn’t really count, in the whole grand scheme of things. The only action is that I need to confirm the meeting reschedule with Royce.
That’s it.
I sit on the bed and stare at my laptop. And then at the side of the crumpled bed, where Holland slept.
Our argument replays in my head and so, I do what I do best.
I cry.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I CAN’T GET AWAY from the conversation fast enough. Away from Ivy. At least I know how to get out of here without having to walk through the lobby.
