“The pants were sky-blue,” I tell her, grinning. “And he paired them with a gauzy half-buttoned shirt that he was really, really proud of.”
Her head falls back as she laughs. Then she turns to me again, an awed look on her face. “You really feel like all of this happened. Don’t you?”
“I know it did.”
“Okay, then,” Bridget says, nodding. “If it feels real, then it is, right?”
Once again, I’m taken aback by my best friend’s empathy. I love her for so many reasons, but I especially love her willingness to meet me where I am, even when that place is bonkers.
She sits up, a new perkiness to her tone. “So, thanks to past us playing a game, you’re quitting your job. And you’re single for the first time in, what, four years? This is exciting.” She claps. “This is a whole new identity for you, Ruby. What’s next? Are we going shopping? Should we vision-board it?”
I laugh. It is very Bridget to quickly move on from my alternate-universe claims, and even more Bridget to find any excuse to build a vision board.
“You know, I think I already have one.”
I look down at the well-worn page in my hand, which is starting to look less like a game and more like a map. Not only a way to get the life I wished for in the first place, but a way toget myself back, too. No matter what happens with my career, or with Penn, I want to find the version of myself that feels true. And be more than beige. Because now that I’ve lived in color—as in, all the colors, everywhere, all at once—I can’t go back.
I fold up the game and nudge Bridget. “Speaking of being single, I think you should give Hot Librarian a chance.”
She faces me, already blushing. “What?”
I smile, feeling the first tiny ember of hope spark inside my chest. Now that I’ve told her the truth, I feel a little less alone. And it feels good, getting to right this wrong.
“Forget my dumb ‘rule’ about not dating coworkers,” I say. “You should go for it.”
“This, coming from the person whose life just got totally upended because you were living with your coworker?”
I wave a hand. “Connor and I didn’t work out, but it wasn’t a mistake. He was right for me until he wasn’t, and that’s okay. You don’t know unless you try, right?”
She gawks at me, gobsmacked.
“Just trust me,” I tell her. “Give Ethan and his rip-away pants a shot.”
Bridget bites at her lip, unmistakably excited, and I take a long, deep breath, feeling more relaxed than I have all day. It’s time to take my own advice and go for it.
At the very least, I’ll make MASH Ruby proud.
—
On Tuesday morning,I comb through racks of blazers, button-ups, pencil skirts, and trousers: black, navy, white. The full spectrum of gray. I plan to shop for some color, but for now, afuneral-ready black dress feels quite fitting. After all, the old me is dead.
The new me comes alive when I leave the apartment, because, God, I missed the city.
Chicago is loud: the people, the cars, and all the taxi horns that echo among tall buildings and mirrored skyscrapers. Hurried walkers hustle in both directions, their shoes clacking along the sidewalk. Busy-looking people bark into their phones. Every few blocks, there’s the clatter of construction drills, and the commotion grows especially loud when I pass beneath another set of tracks, the L train thundering overhead.
I find the clamor soothing. It sounds like the crackling joy of a city that’s forced to spend months in quiet hibernation before it gets a chance to feel the sun.
Not too different from how I feel this morning.
I strut into my office just before eight, and Connor’s waiting for me. When I finally replied to his texts, I told him we needed to talk through the lease and logistics today, and he looks ready for official discussions. Sharp and handsome, as always.
In the game, I was shocked by how many people aligned between worlds: Connor, Bridget, Penn. I shouldn’t have been so surprised, though. They’ve always known themselves and been true to themselves. I’m ready to do the same.
Connor fidgets with the buttons on his blazer. “You look great,” he says, ever the gentleman as he hands me my favorite latte.
“Thanks,” I say, more for the coffee than for the compliment.
His laugh turns into a warm, sentimental sigh. “I know it sounds silly, and it’s only been a couple nights, but…I’ve missed you, Ruby. So much.”
