Page 116 of This Changes Everything

LOS ANGELES 30 years old

AS RORY BIT INTO HIS BREAKFAST SANDWICH, HE FLIPPED HIS chin up at Ben. “What are you up to today?”

“Just going to the gym. That’s my only plan,” Ben answered, biting into his sandwich, then flicking away the crumbs from the black T-shirt of Rory’s that he was now wearing. Bizarrely, it fit him perfectly.

“What about you, Cainey? What are you thinking?” Rory switched over to my childhood nickname with ease.

Zoë grabbed an apple from the fridge and sat across from me at our round glass kitchen table.

“I’m going back and forth about whether I should go talk to Ken.”

Rory’s face softened. I could tell he liked that answer.

“What’s stopping you?” Zoë perked up and crunched loudly.

“Ummm . . . well . . .” My eyes lifted to Ben, then moved over to Zoë.

Rory reached for my hand on top of the table. He stroked his thumb against my skin, quietly comforting me.

“I’m embarrassed,” I admitted.

“Why would you be embarrassed?” Zoë lowered the apple from her mouth.

Ben tracked my sighs and twitches, clocking my nerves.

“There’s been so many times like this that I’ve accepted, laughed over, joked about, even thanked people for. The only time I’ve ever done anything about it was when I was a kid at Juniper. I told a bunch of people what happened between me and this older man, and I was dismissed. I felt so much shame that I stopped going. My entire childhood was consumed by that golf club, and then it was gone.” Rory squeezed my hand, and I continued. “I learned how to adapt in these types of situations so I wouldn’t lose it all again.”

Zoë put her apple on the table. “You’re not going to lose anything, Ellie.”

“I could lose everything, Zo. If I lose my job, I lose my sponsorship, visa, and status, which means I lose the country I live in, which means I lose my home and community, which means I lose the network, career, and life I’ve built for myself and sacrificed everything for. I can say something and maybe lose my reputation, too. Or I can say nothing, find another job, and lose my integrity and self-respect instead.”

Ben stretched his arm over the back of my chair. I knew he wanted to comfort me, but he wasn’t going to overstep.

“It’s all a game, and I don’t know how to win it.” I let out a shaky breath. “And I’m part of the problem because I’ve never said anything. Even with Craig—”

Zoë put her hand on top of Rory’s and mine. “Whatever you’re going to say right now, this is not your fault.”

I buried my face in my hands. “But it feels like—”

“It’s not.” Zoë cut me off again. “You are not responsible for Craig’s actions. And as for other people you’ve worked with who have pulled this kind of shit with you, or bullied you, or made you feel small, they had power and control over your job, and therefore your visa, which has acted as the linchpin of your life thus far, Ellie, and they abused it.” Zoë’s words ran into each other. She was filled with adrenaline.

“Zoë—” I shook my head, but she wasn’t having it.

She waved her hand, silencing me. “You can do this. Are you someone who dies in the night while climbing up the mountain, or are you someone who gets to the top? You’ve trained for this. I know your fingers are tired. I know your rope has been cut. But you’ve worked hard for your career, so get to the top.”

I pushed a burst of air out through my tight lips, then looked at Ben and shook my head. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he asked smugly.

“I know what you’re going to say. Don’t do it.”

Ben shrugged his shoulders casually. “I’m not going to say anything about you being Ellie Fucking McCain—”

“Ben—” I closed my eyes.

“I don’t need to remind you that you took two-hundredth place in the Women’s Long Drive when you were fourteen. Goddamn it.”

I opened my eyes, and Ben was smiling. I looked over to Rory. The warmth in his gentle stare settled in my belly.