Chapter Thirty-Two
The Thames looked particularly gray from Victoria's office window, which seemed fitting given it was the exact color of her mood.
Two weeks of spreadsheets and conference calls, two weeks of pretending she cared about quarterly projections and market forecasts.
Two weeks of absolutely nothing changing.
Well, that wasn't quite true. Something had changed. Victoria had discovered she was capable of sitting through an entire board meeting without retaining a single word, which was a new and deeply concerning skill.
She'd also discovered that her new corner office, the one she'd worked so hard to deserve, felt like an expensive prison cell with excellent views.
The meeting this morning had been about Asian-Pacific investment opportunities.
Or possibly European restructuring. Honestly, she couldn't remember.
What she did remember, with painful clarity, was the way Sasha had looked in the morning light that last day at Cornwall, hair still messy from sleep, wearing one of Victoria's shirts because all her own clothes had been scattered across the floor.
"Ms. Sullivan?"
Victoria turned from the window to find Margaret from accounts hovering in her doorway, looking concerned.
"Sorry, yes. What can I do for you?"
"Just checking if you'd reviewed the Henderson portfolio? Mr. Lawton wanted your thoughts before the client call this afternoon."
Victoria glanced at her desk, where the Henderson file sat untouched beneath a stack of other equally neglected documents. "Right. Yes. I'll get that to you shortly."
Margaret left, and Victoria sat down at her pristine desk in her pristine office with its pristine view of the Thames, and thought about gardens. About dirt under fingernails and the smell of roses in the evening. About laughing so hard her stomach hurt and being kissed against potting shed walls.
About Sasha.
She'd made the right choice, hadn't she? This was what mattered. Career, success, the sort of professional accomplishment that made her family proud. Everything she'd worked for.
Except she couldn't quite remember why any of it had seemed so important.
"Victoria?" Lawton appeared in her doorway, concern creasing his face. "Do you have a moment?"
She turned from the window, pasting on her most professional smile. "Of course."
He closed the door behind him and settled into the chair opposite her desk, studying her with the sort of careful attention that made Victoria's stomach clench.
Lawton had been her mentor for years, had championed her through her career, had offered her this position when she desperately needed it.
He knew her well enough to know when something was wrong.
"Are you happy here?" he asked directly.
The question caught her off-guard. "Yes. Of course. Why would you—"
"Victoria." His voice was gentle but firm. "When we're happy, we focus. And you haven't been focused since you started."
She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again.
Because he was right. The only thing she'd been focused on for the past two weeks was the way Sasha's hair caught the light, the sound of her laugh, the soft press of her mouth against Victoria's neck in the early morning.
The way it had felt to watch her discover something she loved and pursue it with wholehearted joy.
"Is everything alright?" Lawton asked. "Has something happened? If there's an issue with the team or the workload, we can discuss adjustments."
Victoria looked at him, this kind man who'd believed in her capabilities, who'd offered her this position when she needed it most. She thought about the corner office, the excellent salary, the prestigious clients. Everything she'd worked for. Everything that was supposed to matter.
Everything that felt hollow without Sasha laughing beside her.
"I quit," she heard herself say.
Lawton blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"I quit. I'm giving my notice. Effective immediately, if that's acceptable." The words kept coming, surprising her with their certainty. "I know this puts you in a difficult position, and I'm genuinely sorry for that. But I can't do this."
"Victoria, I don't understand. Has something happened? If there's an issue, we can address it. You're one of our most valuable—"
"There's no issue." She stood up, surprised at how calm she felt.
How right this felt, despite the complete insanity of quitting a job she'd fought so hard to get.
"This is an excellent firm. You've been incredibly generous offering me this position, and I'm grateful for the opportunity. But it's just not what I want anymore."
Lawton leaned back in his chair, studying her with those sharp eyes. "What do you want?"
The simple question hung in the air between them.
What did she want? A month ago, she would have said career advancement, professional success, the approval that came from being perfect at everything she attempted.
The corner office and the important meetings and the validation of knowing she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
Now?
Now she wanted messy blonde hair and green eyes and someone who made her laugh in potting sheds.
She wanted mornings that didn't start with conference calls and evenings that didn't end with spreadsheets.
She wanted to feel something other than this hollow accomplishment.
She wanted to be with someone who looked at the world with joy instead of carefully managed control.
She wanted Sasha. Even if the thought terrified her. Even if she had no idea if Sasha would even want her back after the way Victoria had chosen work over her.
"I'm still figuring that out," she admitted. "But I know it's not this. I know I don't want to spend my life in meetings thinking about gardens. I know I don't want to be good at something that makes me this miserable."
Lawton studied her for a long moment, then something shifted in his expression. Not disappointment exactly, but perhaps understanding. "How long have you felt this way?"
"Since I started, if I'm being honest. Maybe longer." Victoria sank back into her chair, suddenly exhausted. "I thought it would get better. Thought I'd adjust, find my rhythm again. But every morning I wake up and think about being anywhere else, doing anything else. That's not sustainable."
"No," Lawton agreed quietly. "It's not." He paused, then asked, "Does this have anything to do with someone?"
Victoria felt heat creep up her neck. "How did you—"
"Victoria, I've known you for years. I've watched you cancel dates for client emergencies, work through holidays, prioritize your career over everything else in your life. The only thing that could make you quit a position like this is realizing there's something, or someone, more important."
She didn't deny it. Couldn't really, when he was absolutely right.
"Well." Lawton stood, straightened his tie.
"I can't say I'm not disappointed to lose you.
But I respect your honesty. And for what it's worth, Victoria, I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for.
You've spent a lot of years being excellent at something that doesn't make you happy.
Perhaps it's time to try something different. "
"Thank you for understanding."
"Just promise me one thing." He paused at the door. "Whatever you're running toward, make sure it's something that deserves you running. Not everyone is worth giving up a corner office for."
HER PHONE RANG an hour later, after she'd cleared out her desk for the second time in four weeks and walked out of another prestigious building with a box of personal belongings and a growing collection of questionable life choices.
She answered without checking the caller ID. "Hello?"
"Vic! Perfect timing." Ambrose sounded ridiculously cheerful, which meant he was either drunk or had finally succeeded in some grand romantic gesture with Lukas. "Listen, are you sure you can’t make it this weekend? It’s not a family weekend without you."
"I'm rather busy with work," she started, the lie automatic. But for different reasons this time. Reasons that she couldn’t quite bring herself to get into with her brother. Not yet.
"Oh, come on. Surely you can spare one weekend? I'm turning twenty-nine, Victoria. That's practically ancient. I need my family there to remind me of my youth and vitality."
"You're being dramatic."
"I'm always dramatic. It's part of my charm." He paused. "Please? I really want you there. And besides, Mother will be devastated if you miss it. She's already planning to make that cake you love."
"I'm afraid I can't," she said. Was she really doing this? Was she really going to risk everything? "There's, um, there’s something I need to do."
"What could possibly be more important than your favorite brother's birthday?" Ambrose's voice had shifted, less playful now. More serious.
Everything, she thought. Nothing. The chance to tell Sasha the truth before she lost her nerve entirely.
"I just can't, Ambrose. I'm sorry."
"Right." He sounded disappointed but not surprised. "Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us. The offer stands."
"I won't. But thank you for the invitation."
She ended the call and sat staring at her phone, feeling something explode inside her chest. She really was doing this. Wasn’t she?
She’d just quit her job.
Jesus, she'd just quit her job. Walked away from the career she'd spent years building because it didn't feel right anymore.
Because nothing felt right without Sasha in it.
Because she'd finally realized that being perfect at something that made her miserable was significantly worse than being imperfect at something that made her happy.
She'd spent her entire life being careful.
Being controlled. Making the sensible choice, the safe choice, the choice that looked good on paper and made her family proud.
And where had it gotten her? Sitting alone in her Chelsea flat with a box of personal belongings and the growing certainty that she'd let the best thing in her life walk away because she'd been too scared to admit she wanted it.
Well. Not anymore.
Before she could second-guess herself, Victoria was scrolling through her contacts, finding the number she needed.
"Sullivan residence, Davies speaking."
"Davies, it's Victoria. I need Ambrose's Manchester address. I want to send him a birthday surprise."
"Of course, Miss Victoria. One moment."
She scribbled down the address on the back of a takeaway menu, her hand shaking slightly. This was insane. This was impulsive and terrifying and completely unlike her. She had no plan, no guarantee that Sasha would even want to see her, no idea what she'd say when she got there.
But she also knew, with sudden crystal clarity, that there would never be a perfect time for this.
Nothing was ever perfect. Waiting for the right moment, the right words, the right conditions, that was just fear masquerading as caution.
That was her entire life summed up in one pathetic pattern of avoidance.
She'd spent years waiting for perfect. Perfect grades, perfect job, perfect career trajectory. She'd controlled every variable, planned every contingency, eliminated every risk. And it had left her hollow. Successful but hollow. Perfect but completely, utterly alone.
Well. She was done being perfect.
Victoria grabbed her coat and headed for the door, her heart hammering against her ribs loud enough to hear.
She had no idea what she was doing. No idea if this would work or if she was about to make a spectacular fool of herself.
No idea if Sasha would even give her the chance to explain, or if she'd take one look at Victoria and slam the door in her face.
But for once in her carefully managed life, she was going to risk it all.
And all it would take would be one train ticket to Manchester.