41. Rosy
FORTY-ONE
ROSY
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Well—”
“That was rhetorical,” I huff. I don’t need Steph to actually list out all my many flaws.
“If you let me finish, I was only going to say that you think too much. Which isn’t really a bad thing, but you end up stuck in your head rather than living in the moment.”
“That doesn’t sound any better than what I thought you’d say.
I think I want pep talk, cheerleader Steph.
” I huff, putting the phone on speaker and falling back on my bed.
Today has been exhausting. That’s the only way I can describe it.
Having Max see all that unfold at work, then coming home and having it all brought up again? It’s all been too much.
“So you want me to lie and give you all the good stuff?”
“Don’t make me hang up on you,” I jest, rolling my eyes even though she can’t see me. I’m glad she can’t. I wish I could avoid seeing myself. I’m a mess. A tired, rumpled, tear-stained mess.
“Sweets, you have every right to feel your feelings. You can be annoyed at them for getting involved.”
“There’s a but coming. I’m not sure I want you to tell me.”
“But…they aren’t completely wrong either. Your boss is a complete and utter dick. To be honest everyone you work with is. So you may be angry at them, but I’m slightly on the guys’ side. I hate how they treat you there. You come home upset and stressed out too often for it to be okay.”
I don’t reply straight away. I can’t. The person I am at work is not who I want to be, and I hate that those two worlds collided. Because spending time with the guys has been a safe space for me to unwind and be myself. A part of me is also ashamed Max saw me become so small, so weak.
My throat’s tight beneath all the feelings rising, drowning me. Blinking furiously through the tears blurring my vision, I sniffle.
“Oh, Ro. Is this because we’re right or you disagree?”
“First one,” I whisper, feeling the tears slide down my cheeks and onto the bedding beneath me. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to change it.”
“That’s up to you. You could start looking at other options, but there’s no pressure to do anything straight away. Even just acknowledging it is a step forward. Life doesn’t have to change in a whirlwind; we can take baby steps.”
I swipe at the moisture still sliding down my face. A tight fist clutches my stomach as I think about changing such a big part of my life. Going for interviews, receiving rejections, getting to know new colleagues…
“Okay, I can do that. I can look around. Non-committal, no pressure.” I pause, then force myself to say, “Do…do you think I messed it up with them?”
Steph snorts loudly. “Definitely not. Those men are falling in love with you; it will take more than you telling them to butt out to change that.” She sounds so sure, which is a relief, because at least if one of us is…
“Wait. What? No, they aren’t.” I push up so quickly my room spins briefly. Love? No, that’s not what they feel. I’d know. I’m sure I would.
Is that what I feel? My stomach somersaults, and my heart flutters in my chest as I reflect on everything…shitsticks.
“Mm-hmm, sure. If you say so.”
I can’t be falling, can I? Isn’t that too soon? What’s a normal timeframe for catching serious, nosediving, permanent feelings? I don’t have any past experience of love to be able to reference.
“Rosy? Are you panicking? It sounds like you are. There’s a lot of silent brain screaming. I can feel it.”
“Ah,” I whisper. “Um. Yeah, I think. Well, I might. How do you know if you’re…falling?”
“I don’t think it’s the same feeling for everyone,” she replies, and I have to fight the frustrated noise that wants to respond to her unhelpful answer.
“How’s that helpful?”
She hums thoughtfully. “Well, how do you feel when they message you for no reason?”
“All weird and giddy, because they’ve thought of me.”
“What about when they’ve come up to the rescue to help?”
“It’s special, because they’re giving up their time to spend with me and the animals.”
“Okay, and when you see any of them?”
“I never want to leave.”
“And when you aren’t with them?”
“Hollow.” That one sends a pang to my chest, because I feel it now. Even though I’m hurt and angry, I still miss them.
“Hm-mm…well, it sounds like you have a case of the feels. Its official term is called ‘in love.’ Sadly, there’s no cure for it.”
“You know, I’m hanging up now. Say hi to Faye from me!” I yell, because I need to vacate this conversation.
I’m not in love. A crush, that’s what this is. I’m heavily crushing on them. They’ve got me hooked on the orgasms. And the food.
“She’ll be back any minute, so I’ll give her a good, thorough hello—”
“Nope! You're the worst,” I groan, hanging up on the sound of her laughing. But she’s made me feel better and pulled me out of my head. Even if I’m still dreading going back to work tomorrow, at least it’s Friday.