And I …
Well. I showed up ready to spar.
But today?
Today was different.
Today she wasn’t just annoying. She was a reminder of everything I wasn’t. Everything I’d never had. And, irritatingly, still the kind of woman people turned to look at when she walked by. Myself included, apparently.
She came from a world where money solved problems.
I came from a world where money was the problem.
And now, for the first time since graduation, I felt dangerously close to losing the one thing I’d fought hardest to keep.
Not just losing a paycheck.
Losing the version of my future where my name was on a national roster instead of a “former competitive swimmer” bio line.
I kept walking, jaw tight, fists clenched inside my hoodie pocket, but my mind wouldn’t shut up.
She’d looked at me weirdly today. Too perceptive. Too curious.
Like she’d known something was off. Like she’d sensed the fracture line running through my composure.
That was the danger with Roxie.
She wasn’t just irritating.
She was observant. Too observant.
I’d seen her use that same keen eye on other people—Livvi, classmates, even strangers—reading them, understanding them, making quick judgments that were usually dead-on.
It drove me insane.
Because if she could read them that easily …
What did she see when she looked at me?
Did she see the panic?
The desperation?
The fear that I was one rent hike away from losing the dream I’d built my entire life around?
I couldn’t let her see that.
I couldn’t letanyonesee that.
Especially not Roxie, the girl who’d always had the luxury of falling and knowing someone would catch her.
I didn’t get that luxury. I never had. If I fell, there was no safety net. Just the concrete below.
So I walked faster.
Head down, shoulders tight, breath shallow.
Because if I slowed down, if I let myself think too long, I’d unravel.
