Chapter Fifteen
Iris was used to a certain level of tension around Barrett, that had always been their way, but she wasn’t used to it feeling… expectant.
Barrett had been her colleague, one who teased her and called her princess but didn’t know why Iris let her.
There was distance between them. Now, that distance was closing at a rapid pace.
She was in a group chat with Barrett and two people she’d only met once before—Barrett’s people.
And she was hanging out with Barrett for the second night running.
Sure, they’d been professionally distant in the office all day, but there was an unshakable awareness of the woman that flooded Iris’ body and refused to leave.
Like Barrett was a point of light she couldn’t ignore and every time Barrett moved, Iris’ attention flicked to her without delay, without thought, without anything other than the need to see and understand her.
Iris had heard others described as magnetic before, and she might even have described Barrett that way.
There was, after all, something undeniably attractive about her—not in looks, though she was, categorically, attractive, but in the way people just liked her, in the way her energy sucked you in and made you want to know more.
This, however, was something bigger. It was unlike anything Iris had ever experienced.
And there was no other way to describe it than magnetic.
She’d lost complete control over that part of her mind and it… belonged to Barrett now?
Iris clenched her hands together. That was intense, too intense.
And impossible. Every person was in control of their own actions.
She had control over her attention. It just so happened that, for the time being, she wanted to pay attention to Barrett.
There was nothing untoward about it. She was simply figuring out her new…
entanglement—friendship. Friendship. That was what it was.
She was making a friend and, in the aftermath of everything with Jemma and Natasha, her body was fragile and emotional.
Navigating finally becoming friends with Barrett was bound to agitate her system.
She was going through something with one of her old friends, of course new friendships would feel tense and delicate.
“So… we’ll text you later,” Ruby said, like it was a threat, as she and Deepti headed out the door with Oscar.
Barrett laughed like she knew something Iris didn’t, but Iris didn’t have too long to dwell on that because, once the door swung shut, she and Barrett were actually alone.
In a way they’d never been before. At work, even when Penn wasn’t there, Oscar was.
When Barrett had been walking her home after Anya’s party, New York had been there.
Now, it was truly just the two of them, alone in a room.
And Iris was intensely aware of the giant glass window with ‘Burrow’ written across it that made up the front of their office.
New York was still there, even if they felt alone.
She cleared her throat and turned to gather her things. “So. Groceries?"
Barrett breathed an almost laugh and moved to collect her own belongings. “Absolutely. And, for what it’s worth, you can totally leave that group chat, if you want, princess.”
“Why would I do that?” Iris’ heart thudded with her attempt at bravado.
She definitely didn’t usually like group chats, but Ruby and Deepti seemed nice. And Iris wanted to know what Barrett was like around people she didn’t feel the need to simply look after.
Plus, it was about Oscar. That was all.
“You don’t have to,” Barrett laughed. “I’m just putting it out there that you don't have to stick around if you only felt compelled to agree while everyone was looking at you.”
“I know how to refuse things,” Iris insisted, but she wasn't sure if that was actually true.
She could push back at work, she could tell clients something they wanted wouldn’t work, and she could fight for projects that would, but, in her personal life, refusals had been complicated for a long time now.
‘No’ had been dangerous around Natasha. Irrelevant, really.
It hadn’t mattered what Iris wanted, even if Natasha had insisted it did.
She’d talked a big game about wanting to know Iris’ opinions, of insisting Iris could disagree, but, in the end, Natasha would ‘win’.
They’d do what she wanted, she’d talk her way around or through Iris’ requests, or she’d simply not acknowledge them at all.
Even if Iris’ body was screaming protests, they’d been ignored.
And it was hard to believe that you got a real opinion when that was what you’d been trained to expect.
Whenever she’d really fought back, things got bad.
It was easier to give in, to accept what Natasha wanted, to feign having no opinion because it was safer.
And, if you claimed enough times not to have an opinion, it became tricky to have one at all.
Iris wasn’t certain they actually went away, but they were certainly buried under the need to be safe.
So, when Barrett was telling her she could have an opinion, what did that really mean? She didn’t know Ruby or Deepti well enough to assume she’d be safe with them if she refused what they wanted.
And, it was pathetic, but she wanted… company.
Since Anya’s birthday, she was the only member of the group Iris had spoken to.
The others had reached out, initially acting like everything was fine in a clear attempt to paper over cracks they knew were there.
And, when Iris had failed to respond, the messages had become scarcer, angrier, until Iris was being accused of being jealous, of trying to jeopardize her friend’s happiness, of ruining everything.
And that wasn’t what was happening, but the blame was familiar, the anger was like home, like where Iris had been taught she belonged.
What was even the point of trying to defend herself? She knew how she’d gotten here. She knew what Natasha was like. And she knew she was the one who hadn’t told her friends the truth of what had happened. She’d tried to protect Natasha, and now she was here. Right where she deserved to be.
If three people were willing to offer her some form of connection, she had to take it on their terms.
“Okay,” Barrett offered simply, but something about her tone suggested she didn’t really believe it was that straightforward. “But the offer stands. You can leave at any moment and nobody will think badly of you.”
“I’m—” The words died on her lips as she looked back at Barrett.
I’m not worried about people thinking badly of me.
Of course she was. Plenty of people were, and Iris was one of them. Lying to Barrett didn’t feel like something she wanted to do. Lying to herself was fine enough, but Barrett would look at her and know.
She knew what happened when people thought badly of her.
She shook her head aggressively, actively refusing to take that particular walk down memory lane. She was going grocery shopping with Barrett. She did not need the image of Natasha hitting her as a joke interfering with her perfectly fine evening.
“Are you okay?” Barrett asked, almost like she knew exactly where Iris’ mind had gone. But that was impossible.
“Fine,” she replied quickly, and she could feel in the effort it took to smile just how fake the attempt would look.
Barrett knew she was lying, but she didn’t call it out, and Iris was grateful for that. For someone so bold, Barrett could be incredibly gentle. Iris hadn’t ever realized how much she needed that.
She sighed. “Let’s go?”
Barrett nodded, waving an arm to direct Iris through the door first. “After you.”
Iris shot her a look but went ahead anyway.
When she’d been younger, her mom and dad had made a huge thing out of chivalry and how she didn’t need it, how it was one of the ways people wore you down and snuck past your barriers.
In her experience, it wasn’t that at all.
It was love bombing, and that was different.
Basic chivalry, like Barrett getting the door for her, didn’t work the same way.
And she was something of an expert at this point.
The door was just considerate, generous.
She’d never figured out what her parents’ issue with it was, or where exactly it had come from, but, the one and only time she’d called them to talk about Natasha—cold and alone and barely dressed as she cowered in the corner of the bathroom—their take on the situation had been to ask if she’d fallen for chivalry like so many women before her.
As if, in enjoying someone being nice to her, she’d brought what happened upon herself.
In the aftermath of that conversation, perhaps it hadn’t been a huge surprise that she’d failed to tell her friends exactly what happened with Natasha.
She’d given up and given in—on everything—and called her parents at her lowest ebb, and all they’d done was validate everything Natasha told her.
They’d somehow been on Natasha’s side without even meeting her, without thinking anything positive about her.
They disliked her and the things she did, but it was still Iris’ fault.
So, Iris had hung up, pulled herself together, and stayed.
And, when she’d found herself back in that spot, time and time again, it had never again occurred to her to call her parents.
Or to call anyone else. Nobody was coming to save her.
Barrett’s voice was a relief to hear when she’d locked the office and turned to join Iris. Whether she knew Iris needed the distraction or not, she nudged her gently and said, “So, this is where I guess?”
Iris blinked rapidly as she looked at Barrett, whose face was a beacon of safety through the storm inside Iris’ soul. “Guess what?”
“Where you buy that updog.”
“Oh, for fu—”