Chapter Eighteen
Victoria closed the bedroom door behind her and leaned against it, pressing her palms flat against the cool wood. Her hands were shaking. Rejection wasn’t something she’d really had to deal with before, and now that it was coming thick and fast, she was discovering that she disliked it tremendously.
The door opened, pushing against her back, and she stumbled forward.
"Go away, Ambrose."
"Not Ambrose."
Victoria turned. Sasha stood in the doorway, backlit by the hallway, and Victoria's traitorous heart did something complicated.
"I'm fine," Victoria said before Sasha could ask.
"Right. You fled dinner like the building was on fire, but you're completely fine."
"I'm tired."
"You're lying." Sasha closed the door, leaned against it. "What's actually going on?"
"Nothing that concerns you."
"Doesn't it?" Sasha crossed her arms. "Because from where I'm standing, you've been wound tighter than a spring all week. You're constantly on your phone, looking like someone's shot your racehorse, you practically vibrate with tension whenever your grandmother mentions your job, and tonight you went completely white at dinner. So forgive me for being concerned."
Victoria felt something crack in her chest. "You barely know me. And I don't need your concern."
"Well, you're getting it anyway." Sasha moved closer. "Talk to me."
"Why? So you can feel sorry for me?" Sasha coming closer was not what she needed right now. Or it was exactly what she needed. She was confused on that issue.
"So you can stop carrying whatever this is alone." Sasha's voice was gentle. "You don't have to be perfect all the time, you know."
The kindness in her voice was worse than pity would have been. Victoria felt her carefully constructed walls crumbling, and she couldn't seem to stop it. She didn’t want to stop it. She was watching Sasha’s lips, and all ability to lie seemed to flee her body.
"I was fired," she said flatly, eyes still firmly on Sasha’s mouth. "Made redundant. Three days before I came here. My entire department, actually, but that doesn't make it any less humiliating."
Sasha's eyes widened. "Victoria…"
"Don't. I don't want sympathy." She managed to tear her eyes away from Sasha’s lips. "The perfect daughter, the golden child who never puts a foot wrong. Except I did, apparently. I justdidn't realize it until they were escorting me out with a box of my belongings like some sort of criminal."
"That's not your fault."
"Isn't it? I worked eighty-hour weeks. I was the best in my department. I canceled dates and missed family dinners and basically sold my soul to that job. I did everything right, and it didn't matter." Victoria's hands were shaking again. "And now I'm sitting here lying to my entire family because I can't bear to see their faces when they realize I'm not actually perfect after all."
"They won't care about the job."
"Of course they will."
"They won't." Sasha was close now, close enough that Victoria could feel her heat. "You were made redundant. That's corporate restructuring, market forces, whatever rubbish excuse they gave you. It's not failure."
"It feels like failure."
"I know it does." Sasha's hand found hers, fingers threading together. "But it's not. And your family loves you for who you are, not what your job title is. Trust me on this."
"You don't know that."
"I do, actually. I've watched them with you all week." Sasha's thumb traced circles on Victoria's palm. "Your mother's proud of you because you're kind and brilliant and you defended me to your terrifying grandmother. Your father smiles every time you walk into a room. Even your siblings adore you, though they'd probably die before admitting it out loud. Especially Ambrose, but then we both know what he’s like when it comes to truth and feelings."
Victoria felt her breath catch in her throat at the feeling of Sasha’s hand in hers. "I'm supposed to have everything figured out."
