41. Derrick
41
DERRICK
I stepped into Prathi's office, the tension of the past few weeks weighing heavily on my shoulders. The bustling sounds of Manhattan outside the windows seemed worlds away from the turmoil churning inside me.
Working at the deli, bringing Mom home and helping her recover, and dealing with my sister Tina stepping in to care for Mom had been overwhelming. I'd stayed away from the office mostly, working remotely, only coming in for emergencies. But now, it was time to get back to the office and the real world.
Prathi looked up from her desk, surprise flashing across her face. "Derrick, good to see you. How's your mom doing?"
"She's better," I replied, taking a seat opposite her. "Back to bossing everyone around. My sisters have been a huge help."
"That's great." She smiled, then waited.
"But I'm here for another reason," I said.
"I figured."
"I need to officially inform you that my relationship with Rachel Arya is over."
Prathi's expression turned serious. "I see. I'll make a note of it, but I need to speak to Rachel too. Let me message her and see if she can meet now."
"Oh." Of course, Rachel had to confirm. How stupid to think it would be this easy.
I hadn't spoken a word to her since that awful day in the hospital, and this was not how I pictured our reunion.
The door opened, and Rachel came in with a large smile on her face. When she saw me, it dropped, replaced first by surprise, then a scowl.
"Derrick?"
I took a deep breath, bracing myself. "Rachel, hi. I just told Prathi that you, that we, that our?—"
Prathi saved me. "He's informed me that your relationship has come to an end. I need to verify this with you so I can officially change it in the file to say you two are no longer engaged in a romantic liaison."
Rachel's face fell. "You what?"
Prathi, sensing the tension, quickly stood up. "I'll give you two some privacy. These things can be sticky," she said, exiting the office.
"You ghost me for weeks and this is how you greet me? Dragging me into HR to tell them you dumped me? At least I know you meant all that crap you said to me at the hospital." Rachel’s voice dripped with bitterness. "Not that you had to go to the effort of informing HR of anything. I'm quitting."
It took me a second to process this. Then anger surged through me, exploding out. "Damn it, Rachel. This is what I was afraid of the whole time. You don't have to quit. I'll figure a way for this not to be awkward so you can stay."
"Forget it," Rachel said, her voice hard. "This was never a long-term gig for me. I'm not even a full-time employee; I never was."
"This is stupid. Don't go because of me."
"I'm not!" Rachel threw her hands up, then took a breath and recovered. "Look, Derrick. I like this job, but I already have another job lined up. One I'm even more excited about."
"You're moving?"
Rachel whipped her head toward me. "What? No. It's in the city. At Ethan's foundation. I'll be working with Eva. And I would never have known working in social media or an office is something I want to do if you hadn't given me a chance here. So, thank you." Rachel took a step toward me and I immediately tensed. "Anyway. Since you're back, today will be my last day."
She brushed past me, bumping me hard with her shoulder. The zesty smell of lemon and sage drifted into my nose, and my heart seized in my chest. It was her scent.
Rachel put her hand on the door handle, but she paused.
"I miss you." She said it softly, practically under her breath. “I’ll stay if you ask me to.”
My chest tightened but I knew I’d never be able to concentrate seeing her every day. It had become too complicated.
"It's better if you leave." I meant it, but the words were like daggers I was shoving into my gut. "It's time to move on."
"Move on?" she asked, her eyes alight with confusion. "But I'm quitting. You won’t be my boss anymore. So that's not an issue. And no one cares about out age difference." Her voice cracked. "Only you."
We stood there, staring, our chests rising and falling together in our standoff, so many words unspoken.
"You can't give me what I want," I finally said, my voice cold and distant, purposely keeping the pain under lock and key. "It's not just your age. We want different things. I want to get married. I know it's old-fashioned. But I do. And I want a family. I want stability."
Rachel's eyes flashed with surprise. "I want those things too. When did you get it in your head that I don't want to get married? And kids, well, I haven't thought about kids, but if it's what you want, we can talk about it. But don't close the door before you see what's on the other side."
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, I faltered. Did she just say she wanted to get married and have kids? Did she mean in general or with me?
Then another thought hit me. The one that had been gnawing at me ever since we started doing research on Brad.
"Do you know how old Brad is?" I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Brad's forty-one. That's younger than me!" I exclaimed. "I can't do it, Rachel. I can't be with someone who could be my daughter."
Rachel's face twisted with outrage. "Brad was sixteen when I was born. It's totally different. No one cares but you. So stop making it a big deal!"
"You need someone your age," I said, my voice firm.
"Stop it," she snapped. "I'm a grown-ass woman, and it's my choice if I want to be with you. I don't give a damn that you're older than Brad. All I want is you. Can't you respect that I know who I am and what I want? It's insulting that you don't ever believe me.”
The room fell silent. Then Rachel's expression shifted, becoming eerily calm.
"Maybe you're right." Her eyes glistened, but her face was somber. "If you don't respect me, then I wouldn't respect myself if I chose to be with you."
She flung open the office door. Prathi was sitting at a workbench close by and came to the door.
"I quit," Rachel said forcefully to Prathi. "It's my decision. I was going to tell you later today. Derrick had nothing to do with it."
Rachel turned back to me, her eyes blazing with a mixture of hurt and defiance. "By the way, Brad's my father. In case you were wondering."