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I read the words six times until they sink in and promptly burst into tears the second they do.
“Olivia?” splutters Tim, flailing at the outburst of emotion. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say, sniffing. I’ll be embarrassed about this later, but right now my professional self needs to regain composure. “Thank you so much.”
“It’s the least you deserve,” says Tim. “Hell, if I had it in my power, I'd give you a bigger raise than that.”
“No, this is wonderful. I’m sorry, I’m just— I’m tired and I’ve worked really hard recently and…” I trail off, not sure where this sentence is going, my mouth just flapping around randomly. I take a sharp breath. “This just means a lot.”
Tim gingerly reaches over and pats my shoulder. It’s kind of awkward, but the gesture is well meant and appreciated. And I’m telling him the truth. I am incredibly overwhelmed by all of this. I was expecting to get fired today, not thanked.
But the truth is deeper than that as well. These are all the tears that I couldn’t cry at the airport. These are tears of joy and of heartbreak. I couldn't confess it before, not even to myself, but I’m going to miss Miles so much. I think I was growing to love him — and now I’m never going to see him again. I know he said I could call anytime, but texting him too quickly seems like an intrusion.
And anyway, what are we going to talk about. Soccer?
Even though I work so closely with the game, I don’t really care about it that much. I definitely don’t know enough about it to have any conversation of length about it. I’d bore Miles in a hurry telling him petty things about my day.
And it’s not like we’d be able to see each other anyway; it’s not like I could just ask him out for a coffee, or drinks, or a walk. Everything about this just feels so difficult, and it’s all in my head. I want to text him right now. I want to tell him that I miss him and I wish we could spend more time together. That, sex aside, I just really enjoyed spending time with him. Once I started getting to know him, he was funny. He was kind.
He was Miles.
It’s been a long time since I cried over a guy like this.
I keep sobbing, and Tim produces a tissue box, gently pushing it in front of me. “Are you sure you're okay?” he asks.
I nod, even though the answer is clearly no. I'm just not getting into personal issues with my boss right now. I’m definitely not telling him that I think I’ve fallen for Miles and that we used to sleep together, and that he saw me as nothing more than a casual side chick, and that I’m wasting my time even having any emotions for him, but now I've started having them. I can't turn them off, and that’s why I’m still sitting here in his office, crying like I just got told the worst news of my life.
This is not a conversation I want to have with my manager. This isn't a conversation I want to have with anyone.
I take a tissue, smiling in thanks, and blow my nose. Immediately, it gets gross and damp, so I stand up to throw it in the trash.
“Do you… do you need a lift home?” Tim asks, stumbling over his words. I guess it takes a lot for him to show genuine concern like this. It’s weirdly nice to see that he has a human side too.
“No, I'll be okay, really. I'm going to go for a walk. Thank you again, so much.” I’m rambling as I’m heading for the door, but I need to escape this room now. Tim nods with a smile that looks more like a grimace, and I excuse myself, opening the door, clutching the envelope with my promotion in my hand.
This is everything I've been working for for such a long time. This is everything I've wanted for years. And now I’ve got it, all I can do is cry over Miles.
I walk out into the parking lot, meandering around the edges until I feel ready to drive.
Leaning on the car, I pull out my phone and my thumb hovers over Miles’s contact. But he’ll be on the plane now, so even if I did text him, it would be pointless because he wouldn’t read it for another six hours. If he would even read it all.
I shake my head and text Tali and Elena the emergency signal. I don’t feel like being alone tonight. What I need are my friends, and I need them to help me drown my feelings. I have enough of them to fill an ocean.
CHAPTER 27
OLIVIA
My stomach churns again. I roll over, clutching my knees to my chest as I lie on the bathroom floor, desperately trying not to vomit again. The entire world is spinning and trying to take the contents of my stomach with it. I don’t think I have anything left to throw up in me, but my stomach heaves again and proves me wrong.
The last time I felt this sick, I swore off eating shrimps for the rest of my life. I somehow don’t think this was shrimp, though.
Once the worst of the next wave passes, I reach out blindly for my phone, which is on the floor somewhere. As my hands creep across the cold tiles, the thought hits me that it’s quite nice to lie on the floor like this. It’s warm outside, so this is kind of soothing. I just wish I wasn’t vomiting as well.
I text Tim, to tell him I categorically will not be coming into work today, and hope that autocorrect fixes whatever sloppy spellings I give him. Maybe that adds authenticity to the sickness, though, to send a nonsense message.
Ugh! I never get sick. I have the healthiest immune system of anyone I know. What is wrong with me?
And worst of all are thoughts in the back of my mind trying to tell me something about the timing of this. But I don’t want to believe it. I’m on birth control, after all. That does mean I probably wouldn’t notice if I skipped a period because I don’t really get noticeable ones anymore anyway. But it’s birth control for a reason. Plus, Miles and I used a condom every time.
