Page 101 of Let's Call a Truce
Quinn came to the foot of the bed, hands braced on her hips. “What’s all this?”
“I ended things with Ben,” I said, my voice breaking on his name. “He ended everything with Stephanie, but I still said no.”
How did I have any more tears to give? But here I was, sobbing again.
Quinn climbed into bed, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m sorry, Juliana. It hurts, but you deserve closure.”
I nodded against her shoulder, but none of this felt like closure. It felt like I was a masochist, choosing pain when I had joy handed to me on a platter.
She held me for a few minutes, letting me cry while she ran a hand over my hair and murmured soothing words.
When the tears slowed, she shifted back. “I know this is probably the last thing you want to do, but Dr. Peterson and President Munchen asked me to get you for a quick meeting.”
I hiccupped. “What? Why?”
She shrugged. “One last sales pitch? I’m just the messenger woman.”
“It’s a Sunday. Don’t they have better things to do with their lives?”
“You’re leaving tonight. It’s their last shot.”
I dropped my head back, the headboard thudding against the wall. “I can’t take the job, Quinn.”
She looked at me, her shoulders coming up to her ears in a shrug and then dropping low. “Yeah, I guessed that.”
“I’ll email them and thank them for the offer when I get home.”
She didn’t look me in the eye as she ran her hand over her pant leg, smoothing the already smooth material. “Why not meet with them? You can leave knowing that’s something off your plate.”
“They’re not going to change my mind, Quinn.”
“I know, but they’re already waiting. I’m sorry to ask, but please don’t make me go back and tell them I couldn’t get you there.”
Quinn smiled at me, the feverish look in her eyes counteracting the expression. She needed me, and helping someone else was something I could handle. Forcing my pain into a box for the sake of a loved one was probably the only thing Iwascapable of.
I threw on the jeans and old T-shirt I’d brought for the plane,far more casual than I’d normally show up for a meeting, but it was that or wear the same clothes I’d worn yesterday. I wrangled my hair into a high ponytail that looked semiprofessional and put on just enough makeup to cover the fact that I’d spent the past twelve hours crying.
I followed Quinn, dragging both my feet and the suitcase I had to lug with me from the hotel in case the meeting went long.
“We’re meeting them in my office,” Quinn said. “So, if nothing else, you’ll be able to picture where I am when I’m texting you.”
I nodded, my mind still locked on the night before and everything I’d given up. She kept up the chatter, filling the silence so I didn’t feel the need to.
I was still mentally back at the hotel when the elevator let us out across from her office. Quinn reached for the door handle, and sent me one last sympathetic look before pulling it open.
I was met with a mass of color. Pinks and yellows. Reds and violets and greens. Vases of tulips in every shade covered every surface. The desk. The bookshelves that lined her walls. Even the floor, except for a thin aisle leading to the middle of the room.
Leading to Ben.
I took a step backward, my body instinctually wanting to run from this, but Quinn put an arm behind me.
I turned to look at her, panic coursing through my body. “I can’t.”
Quinn sent a quick look to Ben and let the door swing closed between us. She took me by the shoulders, turning my body to fully face her. “You can. Talk to him.Listento him. And if you choose to walk away, you walk away knowing you gave it a chance. Like I said, you deserve closure.”
“I’m not strong enough for this, Quinn.”
“Yes, you are. Now, go in there and talk to him.”
