Fourteen Evelyn
The car ride was peaceful as I soaked in her addicting presence, letting out a soft yawn.
This week had been a long one. But there was no work tomorrow, and Vanessa and I were in a good place, making it easier to relax.
Big meals and rocking motions always made me tired.
My eyelids got heavier as the exhaustion finally caught up to me, now that I felt safe enough to let it.
“We’re almost there,” she assured, taking note of my exhausted state. “Don’t fall asleep yet. Just wait a bit longer,” she urged.
I turned my head the other way to look at her with my convincingly tired eyes. The odds of me actually falling asleep were slim; my inability to sleep was what had me so tired in the first place.
“I’m not carrying you to bed,” she informed me, noticing how close I was to drifting off. She was clearly teasing me, both of us knowing that would never happen in a million years.
“I didn’t ask you to.” I frowned, though the idea didn’t sound half bad.
“So what are those pleading eyes you’re giving me for?”
I flushed. Too tired to control my responses, I leaned the other way, hiding my face and letting my eyelids shut.
Waking up naturally, I checked my phone, seeing it was late morning. The last thing I remembered was being in Vanessa's car after an amazing evening. I’d placed too much faith in my ability to close my eyes without dozing off.
I must've forgotten walking into my apartment once she woke me, the same way I forget waking up in the middle of the night if it’s a short enough period of time.
I could vividly recall Meghan explaining this to me after I denied falling off the bed in the middle of the night during one of our college year study crammed sleepovers.
I texted Vanessa a thank you in case I had been too out of it to remember when she dropped me off.
Evelyn: Thank you for last night. I had a lot of fun.
I needed to go for a run. Work had made it harder to keep up with them lately, and I didn't want to lose the habit.
After changing into my running clothes, I planned to head toward the coffee shop Vanessa always went to.
Her occasional croissant deliveries had reminded me how good fresh pastries were, and today I was craving one.
I loved running. It shut off my mind and flooded me with the adrenaline and endorphins of a runner’s high.
I passed the stylish shops, taking in the scenery on the chilly morning.
The quieter parts of Seattle were even more beautiful, in my opinion, with vivid green trees nourished by the abundance of rain Washington received.
I slowed to a stop outside the building, caught completely off guard when I spotted Vanessa sitting inside.
It was the same café where we’d met to go over my presentation—and the nicest one in the area so it made sense.
Having seen her just hours ago, I decided to try the café across the street instead, wanting to give her space and assuming she was there to work.
I started running again, but quickly slowed my jog when I noticed she wasn’t alone. Vanessa was sitting with another woman. The woman’s back faced the window, so I couldn’t make out her features clearly—only her honey-hued hair.
What stopped me dead was the way the woman’s hand rested on Vanessa’s shoulder. The two of them were laughing, real, genuine laughs. There was something warm and close between them. Something comfortable. They obviously shared something real.
I stood frozen as they began gathering their things. Knowing I needed to leave before they caught me staring, I forced myself to start jogging again, slower now, my eyes still glued to them.
As I passed the last window, the woman pulled Vanessa into a long, affectionate hug.
Vanessa wrapped her arms around her in return.
She looked content there, settled, and then the woman’s hand lifted to Vanessa’s cheek.
I had to look away—it hurt too much. Seeing them share a real kiss would have shattered me.
But I couldn’t stop myself from looking back. Their arms were around each other again, tighter this time. I hadn’t even realized my legs had stopped moving. I was a deer in headlights, knowing I should go, but unable to leave.
There was no awkwardness between them, no hesitation. They looked painfully natural together, as if they’d known each other for a long time. This couldn’t have been a first date—it had to be something more.
Suddenly, I was sprinting. Jealousy I had no right to feel surged through me as my pace quickened down the streets. Vanessa had never kissed me on the cheek, but she had done so with this woman. I’d never even seen her kiss Lillian’s cheek, and she was her best friend. That had to mean something.
The truth burned. My fists clenched as I pushed myself forward, my stomach flipping as I passed another bakery. I wasn’t hungry anymore, but I kept running, needing to burn through the emotions swirling in my head. That was what running had always been for me—my healthy escape.
I ran in the opposite direction for several more miles until my thirst became unbearable, finally stopping at an unfamiliar café.
Even though I wasn’t hungry, I knew I had to eat something.
With how many calories I’d burned, I’d get sick if I didn’t—and this time, Vanessa wouldn’t be there to catch me if I fell.
My phone buzzed while I stood in line, but I didn’t check it. Vanessa had probably only just found the time to reply now that her date was over.
When it was my turn to order I skipped the chocolate croissant—it reminded me too much of her—and ordered something new instead. I didn’t like it nearly as much. Or maybe at all. It wasn’t sweet enough.
Vanessa: I'm glad, sweetheart.
Ignoring the text, I spent the entire weekend working, trying to numb the gnawing pain.
I wasn’t willing to put up with these one-sided games when I’d been so vulnerable.
She’d seen me drunk, watched me break down, nearly faint, practically spell out my attraction to her.
It felt reckless to lower my guard so fully around someone who never truly lowered theirs.
She’d made me trust her so easily without offering any pieces of herself in return. She made me want her so completely, for so long, without ever giving me anything solid to hold onto. By always giving me just enough to sustain a fantasy, she had me wrapped around her finger.
By Sunday evening, my hurt had hardened into anger, and I finally allowed myself to admit what I’d been avoiding:
She had been giving me mixed signals all along, since my first day, whether I’d recognized them at the time or not.
When Monday came, there was a deliciously fragrant, perfectly crispy yet gooey chocolate croissant lying neatly in one of the bakery’s signature boxes at the center of my desk.
Instead of the usual joy it brought me, all I felt was frustration. Picking it up—still in its distinct box—I threw it into the nearest trash can by my door without a second thought. I left shortly after, seeking out Michael for both work obligations and a much-needed distraction.
We walked through the halls together on the way to one of our meetings, rehashing the same repetitive ideas.
In the hallway, we passed Lillian, who offered me a clear but simple wave.
I pretended not to see her, looking away with a straight face and avoiding her direct stare.
Absentmindedly talking to Michael, I barely caught anything he was saying, too distracted by my thoughts.
Lillian’s dangerous words—She doesn’t buy pastries for people who just work under her—rang through my head instead.
Remembering that careless yet influential remark only added to my building rage.
I could feel Lillian’s gaze on me as we drew closer, but she didn’t interrupt our conversation to greet us.
Vanessa was her best friend; she obviously knew she was taken, yet Lillian helped Vanessa play with my emotions regardless.
I’d been so excited to receive more attention from Vanessa, finally believing I wasn’t the only one who cared.
I’d waited, understanding that beginning a relationship with her subordinate would have been difficult for her.
I’d waited, believing that when she was ready, there could be something more.
I waited like an idiot only to discover she already cared about someone else in the most intimate way possible.
While the lines between professional and personal had begun to blur in my mind, for Vanessa, they likely never had. She'd always enjoyed messing with me, but at the end of the day, I was just a particularly malleable employee in her eyes.