“I thought being friends with Blanca and her circle would make things easier for you,” she says after a pause.
“They did a lot more harm than good anyway,” I mutter bitterly.
“Is there something more that you’re not telling me?”
Telling her about Adam is out of the question at this moment. There’s too much to pour out on the phone. But I do tell her what I overheard in the bathroom. The things Blanca said about Eliza. And my brother.
By the time I get to the office, I’m slightly less morose. This won’t take long, and I’m excited to go and celebrate Eliza.
The floor is nearly empty; it’s Friday night after all, but Michelle’s still at her usual spot. I can’t believe I’m the one to say this, but the girl needs to get a life.
Although, something about her is… different tonight. She jumps up when she sees me, and that’s when I notice. She’s wearing heels. And a dress. Lipstick.
“Finally got yourself a Friday night out?” I tease.
She blushes, tucking her short bob behind her ears. “Yeah,” she hesitates. “I, um, have a date.”
“Way to go, Michelle.” I perch on the edge of her desk, grinning. “You look lovely. Who’s the lucky guy?”
She looks down at her fingernails. “Actually…you know him.”
“Oooh, tell me more!”
This girl deserves to go out more, she works too hard.
“Your friend Adam stopped by yesterday.” She hesitates. “He asked me to dinner. I hope that’s OK.”
I hear words coming out of her mouth, but I don’t understand.
The air changes. My lungs feel too small.
“Adam? My…” My stomach clenches. “The public affairs consultant?”
Michelle shrinks back in her chair, voice barely a whisper. “If it’s against company rules, I can call it off.”
I can’t breathe. I thought we were getting better somehow. That maybe we were…
But I don’t have the right to say anything. He’s not mine anymore. Can’t stop him.
“Of course not,” I say, blinking hard. “Where’s he taking you?”
She gushes about this restaurant he picked. She’s blushing, talking fast, so endearing I can taste her innocence.
I smile through it. Nod at her story, say I’m happy for her.
But inside, something cracks open in my chest. It’s not jealousy. Or pain. It’s the dark side of hope.
Naked despair.
Chapter Thirty
ADAM
My stomach feels like it’s being churned in an industrial mixer.
The little spitfire had my phone hacked. This brand of crazy would make me run in the opposite direction if it were anyone else. But God damn it, if I don’t want to give her everything.
In my office, I was overwhelmed. The scholarships. The way she sincerely saw me. Finding out she invaded my privacy. It all came in waves, one after another, crashing over me, knocking my footing loose, warping my sense of reality.
