Page 93 of True Colors

That’s a lie.

The universe was fucking late—I already gave myself to him…entirely.

“She struggles to communicate under pressure, Erin, that’s not a moral failing,” I heard Luther’s clipped voice. I didn’t need to know who the ‘she’ was that they were talking about.

Erin responded immediately, crushingly. “No, it isn’t, but she is a risk to your career.”

I waited for him to deny it. I waited for him to say that it didn’t matter that I took my time to present. My effort would show. My data would speak for me.

He said nothing.

And then Erin pushed again. “Tell me, Luther, that you know she’s a damn risk to your career.”

I held my hands together, my eyes closed, waiting for him to show me what I mean to him.

“Luther?” Erin all but shouted.

That’s when I heard him say, “Yes.”

The word was a bullet.

Then, because my heart needed to break completely for me to learn the lesson that I forgot about people—that I trusted Luther even though I knew better, he said, “I know. I know she’s going to fuck things up for me at the board meeting.”

I stopped listening.

I walked into the bathroom blindly. Needing to calm myself. Needing to find purchase when everything I was holding on to was slipping.

I know what Erin thinks. She doesn’t hide it. I know she has Luther’s ear. I’ve been worried about it, but I refused to live in fear. I told myself not to jump to conclusions, that Luther would disagree. That he’d say, “Anouk’s presenting her own work.”

I held on to that hope like a talisman.

And then, in his office, he took it apart piece by piece with a calm voice and careful words and the kind of kindness that hurts worse than cruelty. And then he has the gall to say, “This doesn’t change how I see you.”

But it changes the way I see him.

I stare at my monitors without really seeing them.

Numbers blur.

Cells bleed into each other.

I feel exposed, like everyone can see the shame clinging to me, like they know I’ve been deemed unsuitable.

Dot comes to my cubicle. “Come to my office,” she orders.

I move like an automaton, following her.

She takes a seat and studies me. Her expression is grim.

She knows.

“What happened?” she asks.

My throat tightens, but I force the words out. “He d-doesn’t want me to p-present.”

I see her temper ignite. “He just told me that Erin will present the data and the model.”

I nod.