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It doesn’t take but a minute before she has her skirt pulled on and her shoes, purse, and sweater in her hands. She looks smaller in her pain. Stopping in the doorway to the hall, she doesn’t look back, but says, “This is why I didn’t tell you.”
“And that’s why we’re saying goodbye.”
The door closes, and the automatic bolt locks in place—me on one side, her on the other, and deceit left between us.
24
Juni
That didn’t go as planned.
Maybe the problem is that there was no plan how we would play out at all, so the only direction was down.
I walk off the elevator to find Gil napping on the job. I don’t blame him. I step lighter, not wanting to wake him. I had hoped a shower could make me feel human again or lying down in bed would make me feel better. Neither worked, so I sit on the couch across the lobby from Gil, needing advice from my best ally. But after a while, I get hungry and wonder if he has a donut back there for me.
Tiptoeing over, I’m quiet as soon as I reach over the counter. My hand is lightly smacked.
Snapping it back, I say, “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” He slides his feet off the desk and onto the floor, sitting upright. “No stealing.”
“I thought you said you got that for me?”
“I did,” he replies. “To bribe you into spending time with me. Not take it and run.” Despite my inner turmoil, he makes it hard not to smile. “You sticking around for a few minutes?”
“I need your advice.”
He holds up the pink box. “Then take two.” I laugh. It’s light but feels like a good release of some of the turmoil swimming around in my stomach.
The one will do. “Thank you.” I take a donut and plant my elbows down on the counter. “By the way, you don’t have to bribe me to spend time with you.”
I only got one taco wrap before this night went off a cliff, so the sugary sweet is a nice addition to fill my stomach.
Studying me, he says, “Wet hair. PJ’s. Five thirty in the morning. What’s going on, Juni?”
I’m sure I’m a shining example of an emotional catastrophe, but I appreciate that he’s willing to tackle my issues head-on. “He found out.”
“He found out? Ah. Mr. Christiansen,” he says as if that’s the complete answer. Actually, I thought he was for a short time, like tonight. “He found out you live here? He found out that Rascal’s not your dog? He found out that—”
“Okay, let’s not get carried away. You hit the bull’s-eye the first time.” I rip a piece of the donut off, trying my best to savor something that usually brings a little joy. It’s good, but it can’t fix my troubles this time.
“I’ve been wondering how that would go over.”
“Why? We like each other, so me living in the same building should be a good thing. Why is he upset?”
“A lie’s a lie, Junibug. You know how I feel about them. Even little lies can cause significant damage.”
Maybe I’m tired. I rub my forehead, thinking the hour is messing with my head. That’s the only thing that can explain why I’m so emotional right now and explain the tears forming in the corners of my eyes. “I feel terrible,” I say, sniffling. “Worse than terrible, Gil.”
He gets up, the chair squeaking along with his bones working out the kinks from sitting too long. “Come here, kiddo.”
I let him wrap his hug around me and rest my head on his shoulder. “You warned me, and I didn’t listen. Now I’m paying the price.” I hadn’t cried until now. It’s a whimper, pretty pathetic if I were being judged. It’s not like Drew and I were so far gone we can’t turn around. “I liked him more than anyone else.”
“Sometimes, if we’re really fortunate, that happens.” He grabs a tissue and wipes under my eyes. “You’re strong. You always have been. I think you had to be, so I know what happened. You didn’t let him inside.”
“How could I? He didn’t know where I lived.”
“Your heart, Juni.”
Pointing out the obvious is sometimes necessary. I’ve avoided deeper feelings when it came to Drew, but tonight is a prime example of why I did it.
Why would I let him inside so soon after meeting? We were friends and coworkers. It’s fun to hang out with him, but did it become more without me realizing?
I ask, “How was I to know he’d mean more? Sure, he was cute with Rascal, and he lets me barge into his office at work anytime I feel like it. He gets protective when other guys look at me . . .” I finish the donut, shoving it in my mouth as if that will stop the twenty reasons that justify exactly why Drew and I can’t be friends. He’s grumpy but adorable. Grumpy-adorable? Whatever that means, I like it.
