Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
I vy was thudding her head, somewhat softly, off her desk when Chris walked in.
“Long day?” He laughed, flicking through the spreadsheets splayed around her.
“I think a few more bangs and I’ll be ok,” she replied, without lifting her head.
“This is the dream, Ives,” he laughed, kneading her shoulders like she was a prize fighter. To be honest, it felt like she was in combat already.
This was the dream. This ?
“I somehow thought it would be more…” she trailed off, sitting up and allowing her head to fall against the back of the expensive, orthopaedic chair, that sat in her posh office, in one of the most expensive buildings in the capital.A building filled with people thrilled to be here. And Ivy.
“More what?” Chris probed, spinning the chair so she was facing him.
“Honestly, no idea.”
“More Hebridean?”
She shot him a pointed look and he held his hands up and shrugged.
“You’re spending too much time with Anna these days.”
“Are you coming for drinks?”
It had been a month since her official promotion and the weekly team drinks had started to feel like a point on her to do list, a professional obligation, rather than the social opportunity to let off steam they were alleged to be. She had been back to Lewis for that check in barely two weeks ago, and those three days had been the first time she had enjoyed work in months. She hadn’t even felt like she was working.
“I don’t think I want to do this?”
“Drinks? I mean, skip it, but the higher ups really do like us?—”
“No, not drinks.” Ivy paused, sitting upright and angling herself slightly toward him. “I mean, I don’t want to go for drinks, but I don’t want this job, either.”
“You’ve wanted to be a partner as long as I’ve known you, Ives.”
That was the kicker, really, wasn’t it? The her that he had known had wanted this. She probably still did. But she wasn’t around anymore, falling away every time this Ivy got in the sea, or went for a walk, or felt a new community sweep its arms more securely around her. This Ivy knew exactly what she wanted and had been doing so well at working towards it back on the island. When Duncan had offered her the job, a glimmer of Old Ivy, because the old versions of ourselves never fully leave, had pricked up her ears and, as the future and Ross stared down at her, This Ivy bowed out. What a dick.
“It’s a long story,” she laughed, shoving her things into her bag and grabbing her coat. “We should get coffee sometime, catch up.”
“Ivy!”
“Thanks for everything Chris, really.” Already backing up as the door left her fingers, she called back, “Tell Duncan I’ll email him tomorrow.”
With a final look over her shoulder, she saw Chris’ bewildered brow fighting for real estate against a quirk of a smile.
Throwing him a wave, she already had her phone out as she headed home.
Unsurprisingly, it went straight to voicemail when she tried to call him. She didn’t know what she would have done if he’d answered anyway, so it was fine.
“Ross, I am so sorry. I fucked it, completely. Hi Maeve.” She nodded at the friend from her spin class, pointing at the phone in a You Know How It Is gesture, as she failed to stop. “Sorry, I’m— Shit.” Ivy side stepped an oblivious group taking up the entire footpath with just a brush of the shoulder. She rubbed a hand down her face, her blood pressure reestablishing its Edinburgh-in-Summer baseline. This was probably not getting the message across. “I’m— I’m just sorry.”
She threw her phone into her bag, only ten more minutes to get back to the flat. When she walked back through the front door, she tossed her keys into the bowl and went straight to her laptop. Tapping her finger on the keyboard a few times, she convinced herself this is what she had to do, then finally clicked Buy Now.
* * *
By some miracle, there had been a seat on a flight the next day. Because this was the real world, though, and actual miracles were few and far between, that seat had come with a price tag even heftier than usual and she missed when she could blissfully ignore the fact that getting to Stornoway from Edinburgh by plane was about the price of an all inclusive in Europe, if you were okay with three stars, because work was paying. But, in the spirit of optimism, she was sticking with the miracle thing, and so, twelve hours after tumbling out of the office, Ivy was on Ross’ doorstep once again.
Duncan had been surprisingly supportive when she’d spoken to him earlier, handing in her notice. Knowing her since her final year of university when he’d mentored her during an internship, he’d made some knowing noises down the phone and wished her luck, not without letting her know he’d keep it between them until she found her feet over here. It had given her an odd sense of validation to not be met with shock or abject horror when announcing she was giving up her dream. Almost like that wasn’t actually what she was doing. Setting a non-committal out of office for now, she sent Chris a quick snap of the loch and thanked him again for the course altering insight yesterday. He fired back a bored looking selfie almost immediately, from the conference room. He wasn’t bored though, just like she wasn’t lost. They’d sorted themselves out pretty well, whether or not Ivy got this last piece into place.
“Ivy. Hi.” He froze in front of her, taking her in.
“Hi.”
“I— what are you doing here? I thought you left weeks ago.”
“I did. Before you got back from the mainland. I came back.”
“Oh.”
She took a deep breath and went for it.
“Yeah. So, here’s the thing. I quit my job.”
“You what? Ivy, that was your dr?—”
“Dream job. Yeah. Turns out it wasn’t. I fucking hate that job. Couldn’t do it for another second. Whoever’s dream that was was completely obliterated the second your sister-in-law emailed me two years ago and asked if I could help launch her husband’s new restaurant. I want to be here. Doing… well, something, anyway. And I want to be with you. If you’ll have me.”
He didn’t reply, still staring at her dumbfounded, the heavy front door still in his hand. He could have been a statue, were it not for the small flicker of a tendon in his wrist as he picked at flaking paint while she waited for a reply.
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“That’s ok.”
As the silence stretched on, she couldn’t escape the last part anymore. Without a reply from him to staunch the flow, she was stuck saying it.
“I love you.”
He dropped his hand from the door.
“Ivy…”
“You really don’t have to say anything,” she replied, stepping back slightly, suddenly taking in what she had done.
“I’m leaving,” he finally said.
“What?”
He coughed, rubbing his hand behind his ear. “I’ve got a gig in South America. I’m leaving for a month.”
“When?” She replied quietly.
“Next week.”
“Right.” The space between them widened. As the floor began to rock beneath her, she tried again. “I’m not… I mean, I have to work my notice. I won’t be here until… maybe when you get back…”
“Ivy,” he urged softly, giving her a sad smile.
“Of course. No. You’re right.”
His brow squeezed and a faint tinge of red stained the corners of his eyes for a moment.
“I have to do this.”
“I know,” she sniffed back tears. “You deserve it. You’ll be great.” She began backing away, feeling worse as he watched her achingly from his place in the door.
She turned and fled up the driveway, fully releasing once she made it to the car.