Twenty-Nine Evelyn
There are only so many hours you can spend with someone constantly on your case, picking you apart, before it starts to wear you down.
The day before, I'd found out they wanted to interview me for the job in a few weeks. Most of the guilt had finally faded, and I was ready to let myself do what I wanted. I'd gone to bed genuinely happy. Yet after only a few hours with my family, all that contentment had vanished.
At first, I tried to wait it out. Eventually, though, it seemed better to annoy Vanessa with a text than be a complete mess when we met up later on.
Even after climbing into the safety of her Porsche, the overwhelm and insecurity lingered. So when she didn't rest a hand on my thigh or talk much during the drive, my brain immediately convinced me I'd been a burden to everyone that day.
Still, I had enough self-awareness to recognize the correlation and didn’t want to place any further limits on her day.
After a little reassurance, it became easier to believe everything was fine and that she really was just tired. But that was before she didn’t make any attempt to hold me.
More than anything, I needed to know she didn't see me as selfish, the way I'd been called more times than I could count. That didn't mean I wanted constant closeness—I just needed to know she didn't think that of me.
After giving it some thought once we talked, I admitted that I did want some personal space, but still wanted to feel her presence. So we settled on holding hands as we drifted off to sleep.
I woke up after only half an hour, not needing sleep, only needing to unwind from my morning. Feeling refreshed, I processed Vanessa’s consideration throughout the last few hours, grateful to have her by my side.
Not wanting to wake her after her migraine today, I snuggled up against her, spooning her from behind.
Burying my face in her soft hair, I savored her warmth and the calming vanilla scent she always carried.
She was supportive of my every need, so maybe it would be no different if that need involved an alternative career path elsewhere.
Only a few hours later, we were seated at an upscale restaurant, already on the second course of our meal.
I’d held her the entire time she slept. When she woke up feeling better, she did my hair, which I was grateful for since my curls had gotten messed up during our nap.
The hotel room was beautiful—we could have put the enticing setup of the large, rose-covered bed and alluring mirrors to better use, but neither of us had felt up to it.
There had been a mutual understanding of what going back to the room had meant.
Now that we were both feeling better, I hoped we would later—unless I was about to ruin everything.
“Nessa, I want to tell you something.” My tone was more serious than it had been moments earlier, when we were discussing whether Lillian’s newest gossip was accurate.
“Go on.” She tilted her head in intrigue, her expression shifting thoughtfully to match my tone.
“I applied for another job,” I said hesitantly.
“Okay,” she replied with a small smile, the minimalist reaction being the most reassuring response she could have given me.
“Okay,” I repeated more confidently.
“Would you like to tell me about it?” she asked, tilting her head further.
I smiled and began telling her all the details about the place of my dreams and what I’d fallen in love with during the application process. She didn’t interrupt, her warm smile growing alongside mine.
“And I found out yesterday that I got an interview,” I finished, beaming.
At some point while I was talking, she picked up my hand that’d somehow found its way on top of hers. She lifted it and placed a sweet but socially acceptable-for-a-restaurant kiss on it.
“You’re going to be much happier there, my love,” she whispered, rubbing her thumb against my wrist.
“I’m not unhappy here. I just need something new.”
“Do you actually believe I’m that naive, sweetheart?” She rolled her eyes.
“It was that obvious?” I blushed, moving my hand out from under hers to mess with my hair before remembering it was trapped in the style Vanessa had done.
She grabbed my wrist within a second, pulling it away from my hair and sending me a fierce look. Always so protective of her work.
“Only to me,” she assured, the previous sternness in her eyes melting away.
“Why didn’t you fire me then?” I asked, seriously hoping I hadn’t kept my job solely because of our affair.
Instead of touching my hair again, I twirled one of the aquamarine earrings with my thumb.
The smooth surface of the stone was far more calming.
Just wearing them felt reassuring, which was why I never took them off, except to sleep.
Even then, I wished I didn’t have to. I slept better with the comfort of her presence.
“Because your work and contributions to my team are excellent. If I fired people based on how much they enjoyed their position, four fifths of the department would be gone,” she chuckled.
“But you promise you’re not upset?”
“As your boss, I’m disappointed to be losing such a wonderful and hard-to-replace recent addition to our department. But as someone who genuinely cares for you, I couldn’t be more proud of how much stronger you’ve become.”
I looked away, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.
“And I would also love to have the weight of being involved with an employee lifted off my shoulders,” she added, making me giggle.
“If you’re done eating, are you ready to leave?” I asked, noticing her plate was finally empty.
“Yes. You know there’s a small but prestigious university a few blocks away. It also has an open position you’d be suitable for.”
“Nessa, why do you know that?”
“That’s irrelevant, but I think we should look at it. The campus is said to be beautiful, and it feels like a nice evening to walk around.”
“I know the one you’re talking about. I know someone who goes there. But it’s much too small for my liking, and I’m already confident in the university I want to work at.”
“As that may be, I want to see more of this area,” she answered, asking the waiter for the bill.
“Alright, but can we go back to the hotel after?”
“Of course, darling.”
We walked around for a bit. It was still early, so students were out and about.
I kept glancing around, wondering if we'd run into my friend.
I'd texted her about half an hour earlier, but even if we didn't, I was glad we came.
There was something about old college campuses—the huge libraries, the people who had spent years dreaming of ending up somewhere like this—that always did something to me.
I looked over at Vanessa, wondering if she felt it too, or if she was just happy because I was.
We passed the fitness center when I spotted my friend walking out of one of the dorms. She saw me too and hurried over, immediately pulling me into a hug that was far tighter than I would've chosen.
We'd met during our PhDs, but she'd transferred here to finish hers after deciding she hated her previous university. For all my complaints about it, I'd stuck it out. Being far away from home had been enough.
I introduced her to Vanessa as a friend, still unsure what Vanessa and I were and even less sure she'd want me answering that question for her.
Vanessa didn't react, greeting her with the same polite smile she gave everyone.
We caught up for a few minutes before heading our separate ways, my friend squeezing me into another hug while I scrunched my face in discomfort.
We'd only walked a few steps before Vanessa spoke.
"She seems rather fond of hugging you."
Her tone was light, almost absentminded, but I'd gotten better at catching the tiny things. The hint of jealousy was almost cute. It wasn't enough that anyone else would've noticed, but I knew her well enough by now.
"No, it wasn't like that at all.” I laughed. “We don't have a history."
She rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant. It was simply an observation." After a beat, she added, "Though the face you make when she hugs you is rather cute."
I reached over. "Like when I do this?" I asked, giving one of her curls a gentle tug.
Her face scrunched in annoyance, and she smacked my hand away, making me giggle.
"Only one of us enjoys pain," she scoffed.
"Okay, but I also enjoy the face you make. You're adorably cute when you do."
Her lips flattened into a line.
"I know you did not just call me adorably cute."
“Would you rather I’d found my friend cute instead?”
“There was nothing between you. If there had been, that interaction would’ve gone quite differently,” she answered with unyielding confidence.
“Different how?” I asked, intrigued. She had never said anything like that before, and now I wasn’t about to let it go.
“Different as in I wouldn’t have let her near you, let alone touch you.” Her tone was completely serious.
“Let?” I echoed, trying to hide the eagerness in my voice.
“Yes, sweetheart. Let—as in allow, permit, tolerate. Shall I keep going, or have you caught on?”
I blushed at her condescending words. This had to mean something. I wanted the security of it—the feeling of belonging somewhere solid. But if she wanted to define it, she would. I wouldn’t push. I didn’t accept just any dynamic; it had to be real, or I didn’t want it at all.
I rubbed my arms as the temperature dropped.
Luckily, we were only a block away. We talked about our college experiences—me sharing how grateful I was to have started a year early and how hard I’d worked to do so.
College hadn’t just been an educational experience.
For me, it had been an oasis. I didn’t share that with many people, but with her, it came easily.