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“Leo.” Tucking my hands into my pockets, I stare blandly at the boss. He’s barricaded behind his desk, hiding from the world in his work. Same as always. Outside his office, the soft, sweet voice of his assistant Hazel seeps under the door, but her words are muffled. “I’m having a meltdown here. Schedule me in.”
With an almighty huff, Leo looks up—and frowns harder. He drops his pen.
“Christ. You look like shit.”
Thankyou.
“I feel like shit.” Spreading my arms, I step closer to the huge desk. “So, go on. Make it all better.”
Leo scoffs, but he’s leaning back in his chair now, stroking his jaw. Hitting me with his full, monstrous focus. “I’m neither your daddy or your shrink. What do you want me to say?”
I already told him. “Remind me why I’ve decided to die alone.”
It’s a morbid pledge we made as college students, half-joking at the time. Poking fun at ourselves, even as we despaired at any alternatives. And yet we’re in our thirties now, and neither of us shows any sign of breaking that oath, so I guess it was more serious than we let on.
Leo rolls his neck, his gaze flitting to the closed door. Hazel laughs out there, her voice trilling in the quiet. “You know why.”
Yeah. I do.
Because Leo and I both came from shitty, broken families with parents that hated each otherandus. Because we’ve seen firsthand how impossible love is, how it’s all such a fairy tale,and we each vowed not to put ourselves through that pain again. Not to bring any more kids into it, either.
But that was then. Before Lucy. Before spending another decade in the world, and seeing it’s not all black and white. There are shades of gray; there’s room for nuance. Almost nothing is all good or all bad, except for that prim little accountant, who came straight down from heaven.
“Things change,” I say.
Leo grunts his disagreement. For the big boss up here in his steel and glass tower, nothing changes unless he gives his say-so.
But I try again. “There’s this girl in Accounts—”
“Then fuck her,” Leo cuts in. “Take her out a few times, and get her out of your system.” The sweet assistant’s muffled voice has gone silent outside the door. It’s quiet enough to hear every rustle of clothing and the wind moaning outside the windows, up here halfway to the clouds. “But don’t kid yourself, Darius. You and me… we’re not meant for that shit. Remember? That’s for people who grew up with the white picket fence and half a clue about love. That’s for people who were wired right. Not us.”
Yeah. Okay.
I nod, a sickly feeling churning in my gut. Because Leo’s never wrong, and he’s not wrong about this either—if I ever got a chance with Lucy, I’d wreck it. Wreckher.
And I couldn’t bear that. Couldn’t live with myself if I hurt that sweet girl, but I’ve never seen a healthy relationship up close. Never had that modeled for me. I don’t have the first clue.
“You’re right.” My chest burns, but I straighten my wristwatch. “I’ll keep my distance.”
Four
Lucy
There are ten minutes left until Darius picks me up for our date, and I just stabbed myself in the eye with a mascara wand. Now one eye is bloodshot and watering, the lashes all clumped, and mascara is smeared beneath my eye so I look like a raccoon.
“No. No, no, no, no, no.”
Maybe if I deny this hard enough, reality will warp and change. I’ll be ready and calm when Darius arrives, with perfect make up and contacts and a wide smile, and the sight of me will blow his mind. Like in those teen movies, when the nerdy girl finally takes off her glasses. After one look at my red velvet dress—oh god, how did I ever think I could pull that off?—and my glossy auburn waves, he’ll fall in love on the spot. He’ll drop to one knee and propose, right there in my apartment hallway.
But, nope. No such luck. Life doesn’t work that way, and when a knock rattles my front door, I’m still pressing a tissue to my eye and stumbling around barefoot.
“Shit.” Half-blinded by my Kleenex, I stub my toe on the coffee table on my way to the door. Pain blooms in my foot, hot and sharp. “Ow! Shit!”
“Lucy?” That deep, smooth voice floats through my door. The voice that haunts my dreams. “Are you okay in there?”
“No!”
Darius jiggles the door handle, but it’s locked. And I can’t leave him out there in the hallway; can’t pretend I haven’t failed horribly at this date already. My toe throbs as I limp to the front door and undo the chain.
