Chapter 13
Thirteen
T he problem with having a glass office was that Tori had nowhere to fall apart in private. She should have gone home. But instead of admitting defeat, she’d gone to work. Work, where she’d been staring at the same email for twenty minutes, reading the words without processing them. Even if she could make her brain function, she was just as distracted by the pain. The tension in her clenched jaw had created a headache that started at her temples and radiated down her neck.
Every minute of the six hours she’d been at work felt like trying to move through water—slowed down, weighted, unreal. The sharp ache in her gut hadn’t eased since she’d fled Mia’s house.
“The financials from last month,” Larissa announced, dropping a folder onto Tori’s pristine desk. She sat in a chair across from her. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks.” Tori rubbed her chest like that might ease the pressure building there.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Nope.” Tori clicked through a dozen unread messages without seeing them. She just needed to focus. To slip back into the groove she’d carved for herself, the comfortable routine that didn’t include getting emotionally eviscerated before breakfast.
“So it’s about Mia then.” Larissa crossed one long leg over the other, hands resting on her lap. “She the reason you weren’t here bright and early, like the adorable little rooster you are?”
Tori locked Larissa in her gaze and turned the temp in her voice down to icy. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“Yeah, but watching you squirm is way more entertaining.” Larissa’s playful tone softened. “You know you can’t keep running from this conversation forever.”
“Watch me.” Tori tossed back a forced smile and picked up the folder.
Alone again, she tried to lose herself in work. But she couldn’t think about contracts or deals. She’d done the right thing fourteen years ago. Hadn’t she? Creating distance had been the only way to survive loving someone who could never love her back. Why did she still feel like shit?
Tori closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her pounding temples. All she could see was the hurt in Mia’s eyes. Her voice cracking played on a loop in Tori’s mind. The sound was haunting.
Tori’s chest was on fire. Her instincts had served her so well for so long, and now she wasn’t sure about anything. Had no idea what to do next.
The dangerous truth was that she wanted Mia back. There wasn’t a person on the planet who made her feel so much like herself. Mia was the only person she never needed a break from. Never wanted to be apart from. She didn’t have to recharge her social battery after being with her—Mia was high voltage plugged straight into her veins. Why did everything with her have to be so easy?
Dropping her head to the desk, she groaned. What should she have done instead? Remain in unrequited love for her entire life? She’d made the best bad choice. How could she have known she’d misjudged the cost?
“Looks like I’m right on time,” Larissa said when she walked in.
Tori didn’t take her head off the desk.
Larissa sat down, and Tori stared at her shoes through the glass. No one else could rock Doc Martens with a suit. Larissa would never end up a pathetic heap in her office.
“The straight ones will get you every time,” she offered like it was a thing people said. “That’s why I put together a speed dating thing for you.”
At the ridiculous suggestion, Tori popped her head up. “What?”
Larissa looked at her smart watch. “You have three hours to turn that sad sack smile upside down.”
Head pounding anew, Tori raised her brows. “Did you put out a big light in the sky to summon all your former suitors?”
Larissa laughed. “I sent a few texts to some people who sent a few texts,” she admitted. “In a couple of hours, a dozen eligible sapphics will mingle while waiting their turn to meet you.”
“That sounds like a lovingly handcrafted nightmare,” she joked. “Thank you for trying to play Cupid, but?—”
“But you’re still hung up on her.” Larissa leaned back, expression sober, like a physician rendering a diagnosis. “And before you deny it”—she casually lifted one hand—“I know you’ve seen her every single day since she fluttered out of here last week.”
“You stalking me, Silva?” Tori deflected.
“So that’s a yes,” she replied with staggering confidence. She watched Tori for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and leaning forward. “What’s going on? Trust me, my Sagittarius spirit usually finds your Scorpio-tastic need to live in your head and keep every thought a secret adorable.” She smiled, soft and warm. “But maybe if you let some of them out into the light…” She tilted her head to the side.
“I don’t even know,” Tori breathed, the first whole truth she’d told in days.
“Do you still have feelings for her?” Larissa’s tone was so gentle, it made Tori too aware that she looked as unraveled as she felt.
Tori closed her eyes too long to call it a blink. When she opened them again, her chest was aching like an alien spawn was fighting to break free. She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t answer the question. Instead, a barrage of reasons she shouldn’t care about Mia swarmed out.
“In so many ways…” Tori tried to get out of her own way and let something —anything—flow out. “It’s like nothing ever changed. Like I’m still this stupid teenager, but without the mood swings.” She tried to laugh, but it was too strained. She dropped her head back on her chair. “I don’t know,” she repeated, eyes trained on the ceiling. “It’s too fucking pathetic,” she confessed to the crown molding. “What does it say about me that I can’t remember being happier than…” She didn’t let herself finish the sentence.
“Than you’ve been since that cute redhead cannon-balled back into your life?” Larissa put her out of her misery.
Tori nodded.
“Even though that crush is still crushing.” Larissa repeated her question from a few nights earlier, but this time it sounded more like a statement of fact. One Tori was too tired to contest.
Tori nodded again. “It’s so stupid. Not only is she not into women, she’s impulsive. She’s chaos and mess?—”
“And you’ve built your perfectly ordered life to never experience an ounce of that,” Larissa finished.
Attention snapping back to Larissa, Tori straightened. “What the hell?”
“I’m not making judgments.” Larissa put both her hands up to show she wasn’t wielding weapons. “Just pointing out some facts. Control might be an illusion, but it is comforting. I get why?—”
“What side are you on?” Confused by Larissa’s erratic train of thought, Tori furrowed her brow.
“The side that wants you to be happy,” she replied without hesitation. “And I’m afraid you’ve gotten really good at being content.” She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “Content isn’t the same as happy.”
Tori didn’t want to think about how she’d structured her life. She shifted to the more immediate problem. “I hurt her,” she said with a heart full of regret. “How the hell do you fix something you broke trying to save yourself?”
Larissa stood and rounded the desk. She squeezed Tori’s shoulder. “Maybe start by being honest—with yourself and with her.”
“That’s terrible advice.” Tori managed a weak laugh.
“Yeah, well.” Larissa headed for the door. “Sometimes the terrible options are the only ones we’ve got.”
Alone, Tori picked up her phone. She wanted to call Mia. To find a way to make it right.