Page 101 of The Cruiser
“Um, yeah,” he says, confirming my fears. “I just forwarded an email to you. It’s the Royal Morgan Yachts contract, voided. I wasn’t sure if that’s what was discussed.”
My spine stiffens. “What does it say? The email.”
“Nothing. It came from their accounts payable department.”
“Nothing?” My toes clench in my slippers. I can hear myself telling Morgan to forget about the contract. To forget about everything.
“Do you want me to respond?” he asks.
“No. I mean, I guess that’s that, right?” My voice catches, and I wish June and Flynn would stop eyeballing me like I’m an alien in drag.
“I’m sorry, sunshine,” TQ says. “It’s probably not what you wanted to hear.” He doesn’t know the whole story and doesn’t need to, because he knows me. When we’ve lost clients or I’ve blown a pitch, or for all the times I turned to him for advice about Derek when things were tricky, he knows the Vandana voice of uncertainty and sorrow.
But I find my resolve, buried as it might be. If anything reinforces the subtext behind Morgan’s first move, it’s this. “You know what? Wire back all the money. Every cent.”
After a heavy pause he asks, “You sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
After I hang up, June uncorks another bottle. In the silent gloom, she tops up the glass I just emptied. “Care to share?”
“Morgan sent back our contract,” I say. “Null and void.”
Flynn and June share a look. “How do you feel about that?” Flynn asks.
How do I feel? Like I’ve been run over by an ice cream truck. Like everyone on Planet Earth knows my wax job of choice is a Brazilian. Mostly I feel abandoned, which is nonsensical, because I was the one who jumped ship.
June sits beside me and slides an arm around my shoulder. She’s our den mother and will go to the ends of the earth for us. “You don’t have to pretend. It’s us.”
My head drops and all the tears I’ve been saving make an appearance. I swipe at them angrily. “Maybe I liked him. Maybe I liked him more than I thought I would.”
And I shut down, because if I don’t, I’ll break in half and there’s no glue strong enough to hold me together.
Time and distance, I remind myself for the umpteenth time. Time and distance.
All of this will pass.
Life is full of regrets, and I can’t let one drag me down.
Even if he is a regret I’ll remember for the rest of my life.
