Page 26 of All The Ways to Miss You

So now that I’m alone, the whispers rush to submerge me. They choke me with all the reasons Evan couldn’t possibly like me.

I stand in the middle of my room and do a few jumping jacks. I drop to my hands and knees for pushups, then roll over and thread my fingers behind my neck for sit-ups. With each exhale of a stomach crunch, it’s just enough of a distraction to clear my mind. If I don’t, I won’t sleep tonight.

As if my body wants to reject my optimism, I have my first nightmare in a week. Unlike other nights where I would take a midnight run to escape them, tonight I remain in bed to confront them. The images shoot from peaceful to violent, from pure happiness to terror.

Are they flashes of real memories from before? I’m unsure if I want to remember that day. Or did my mind fabricate them?

When I wake, I’m breathing hard. My neck and back are slick with sweat. I swipe away the hair sticking to my face and sit up.

This time, I got off easy. I didn’t scream. I didn’t vomit. I didn’t tangle myself in twisted sheets until I believed I was dying. I’m only shivering with an eerie chill.

Either way, I do what my therapist suggested. I glance around the room to find what’s real—my dresser, my running shoes in the closet, and my reflection in the mirror. Though the reflection of the girl staring back looks like she’s been to war. Heavy purple bags droop beneath her eyes, and her hair is wound into tight knots. But those things are unimportant, because she’s safe. I’m safe. I’m alive.

I breathe through my nose and allow my chest to expand on the rise and compress on the fall as I count to ten. When I’m finished, I drop my feet to the floor, press my toes into the carpet, and rub my temples.

How can I find a way forward if I have no concept of who I was before this? If I could remember the good that came before, I might be able to anchor my entire life to my experiences or relationships. If I could remember, I might better understand why I am the way I am.

Trying to be brave and tackle the day, I rise and move to the closet to browse my new clothes. Until yesterday, my dress-code strategy consisted of blending in, not standing out. Aggie’s joked I’d wear a camouflage suit to work if I could. She’s right, but today I brush aside my worries. I’m tired of being scared and living in the rain when I want to spin in the sunshine. Determined to change, I remove a sophisticated blue dress-and-blazer combo from my closet.

Today when I leave, I don’t run into Evan, which is for the best. My flirting or attempts at friendship have been pushed to the back of my mind. I’m still on edge from my nightmare.

In the afternoon, I sweep through the revolving doors of 273 North State Street for my appointment. James stands in the lobby, ending a call. When he spots me, he slides the cell into his suit pocket and steps across the marble floor.

“Good afternoon.” His smile dazzles.

I accept his outreached hand as we exchange pleasant greetings. “I’ll take you to the suite. I think you’ll be impressed with the space and the views of the lake.” I scramble to open my bag, remove a copy of the sales booklet, and dig deeper for the keys. I rushed here after an intense meeting with Linden, which proved to be another bump in my already rocky morning.

“You okay?” James places a hand on my jittery arm.

I glance up to find concern in his steely gaze, and swallow. I didn’t realize how fidgety I was until this moment. What’s worse is I didn’t realize until now it was evident to everyone else, namely the client I need to impress. To shut the door on what happened last night, I smooth my expression and relax my arms.

“Sorry. I had a little bit of a crazy week, but I’m fine.”

“Promise?” The apple of his cheeks pop.

His concern warms me, and I unwind further.

“Promise.” I surrender a smile despite myself, but then offer a diversion. I lift the missing keys from my purse and dangle them triumphantly. “Found them.”

We step into the elevator, alone in the compartment. When the doors slide shut, I turn to him.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t meet sooner.”

“I blame the partners. They’re split on how they envision the new space. The good news is they’re finally agreeing on some bullet points. Which is a good thing, because I was looking forward to seeing you again.”

I clutch my bag a little tighter. Did he just come on to me?

“Twentieth floor,” the mechanical voice intones, saving me from responding.

The elevator doors slide open and I step through, determined to keep this appointment all business. Between Evan being Evan and Linden being a bull, I can’t deal with another man, even a nice one. I unlock the glass entry door and lead him inside.

“As you can see, the space is raw. It’s a blank canvas for your firm to do anything they want.” My heels click on the floor as I move around.

He paces from one side of the space to the other, taking in the details—wide plank floors, enormous brick archways, and exposed beam ceilings. His heavy steps echo in the open space. His shoe heels scrape when he pauses and turns in a circle.

“The size is great. Love the natural light.” He peers through one of the large windows. “And the view of the lake and city is magnificent.”

“Imagine looking at that every day.” I join him and glance out. Sunshine reflects off the bright blue water. A few sailboats dot Lake Michigan, claiming their last days of fun before the weather changes.