Chapter 5
Kimberley
How did I not notice my blood sugar was that high? I knew the meter would start beeping soon, but I kept forgetting to check. By the time I felt dizzy, I should’ve tested—but sometimes I just forget.
Of course, I’m grateful to Gabriel for giving me the insulin when I couldn’t do it myself, but…
It’s because of him I got so upset in the first place. Anger spikes adrenaline and cortisol, and those hormones shoot my blood sugar up. I need to be careful next time. It can happen so fast…
I was just so angry with him, I completely forgot I have diabetes.
"You can drop me off here," I say when I see my apartment. It’s not far, and a short walk to get my circulation going should help.
"Okay." Gabriel stops at a small bus stop. I get out silently, saying nothing. Yeah, I’m really angry. I don’t think I’ve ever been treated like this before—and I certainly don’t want anything to do with anyone like him again.
As I close the door, he’s already driving off. Gone. The man I so desperately wanted to work for. My dream job. My dream employer. Why did I even go to Chloe’s lounge that night instead of just going to bed? Then today would have gone completely differently.
And now?
What do I do now?
I go into my apartment on the second floor, toss my things on the kitchen counter, and grab a chilled bottle of mineral water from the fridge. I flop onto the couch, turn on the TV, and have a long drink.
I’ll just erase today from my memory. That’s it. Simple.
One week later…
I’m sitting in Chloe’s Midnight Lounge. It’s Monday afternoon, and in an hour I have an interview with Steven Bones.
"Be honest—how do you feel about it?" Chloe asks, having let me in before opening. She’s cleaning the counter and organizing the liquor on the shelves while I sit in front of a glass of mineral water with a lemon slice. Treating myself to the finer things.
"Pretty good." I sip and look at Chloe, who gives me a reproachful glance. "The worst feeling ever," I admit. I can’t fake it with her.
"I know you’ve always wanted to work there, but seriously: think about your mental health. This Mr. Bones works with Gabriel, so you’ll run into him from time to time. What will you do? Greet him politely? Or plot a way for him to accidentally fall out of his office window?"
"Accidents happen…" I shrug, but Chloe immediately shoots me another reproachful look.
"I’m just saying." Sighing, I twirl my glass in my hands. "It’s a good transitional gig. Even if the pay isn’t as good as working for Gabriel himself, at least it covers all the bills."
"You’re taking on too much," Chloe says, sighing, and slips her hand under my chin, lifting it slightly. "I don’t want you to break because of this. Just because you act so strong doesn’t mean I don’t already know how fragile you really are." She lets go, smiling sadly.
"The world breaks everyone, and afterward many are strong at the broken places," I roughly quote Hemingway. I love that line and use it whenever I can.
"That’s great on a postcard, but this is real life."
"If life worked like that, I’d be back in Scotland helping my parents," I murmur, lowering my gaze.
"Where do you see yourself in five years?" Chloe always manages to ask the questions that make me really think.
"I wish I knew. Right now, I’m standing at a fork in the road and don’t know whether to go left or right." I grab a sugar packet, pour it onto the freshly polished counter, and make two small piles.
"Seriously?" Chloe mutters, sighing heavily. I draw two lines from the piles and connect them. The line points toward me.
"I’m standing here, and I have to decide whether to go there… or the other side." I tap the piles, scattering sugar crystals.
"Very illustrative, but I’d have gotten it without the sugar," Chloe smirks, standing across from me.
"Left is the easy path. I go back to my parents, help rebuild Green Beauty, marry Christopher, have ten kids… a simple, beautiful life. Or right—the hard, rocky road." I draw squiggly lines through the sugar trail. "London. High rent. Bad air. Crappy job. Gabriel."
"Your very best and dearest friend Chloe, from whom you always get free drinks and the latest gossip," she quips, leaning on the counter and wiggling her eyebrows.
"What's this I hear?" a voice suddenly chimes in as Tony emerges from the back room by the bar. He grins at us, clears his throat loudly. "Oh, it’s you, Kim. Well, you can certainly drink as much as you want here. Chloe’s friends are my friends."
He’s already heard it’s me, but I suspect he just wanted to slip into our conversation.
Even now, I notice how fascinated he is with Chloe.
His dark blue shirt fits well; the black bow tie gives him a bold, youthful look.
Dark blond hair falls casually, and his freshly shaven face highlights a wide, charming smile.
Slim, athletic, big hands, and an even bigger heart.
He’s about half a head taller than Chloe, whose wild curls reach him only so far.
He looks no more than twenty instead of twenty-five.
But give it a few years and he’ll have his full glow-up.
Women will be swooning, and he’ll probably still be chasing her. You can’t force love.
"Well, that’s a relief," I say, raising my glass in a toast as he flutters around Chloe like a moth to a flame.
"My taxi’ll be here soon. I should get going…" I finish my drink and set it aside. "Sorry about the mess." I point to the sugar Chloe’s wiping up.
"Already taken care of. Good luck, sweetie. Text me if anything happens, okay? And don’t forget your meter."
"That happened once and never again." I pull the glucose meter from my pocket, attached to a lanyard. As long as my bag is with me, so is the meter. All readings in the green—nothing can go wrong.
"You have to leave already?" Tony beams like a Cheshire cat. I don’t think anyone’s ever been this happy that my taxi is arriving.
"Yes. Job interview. You’re wishing me luck too, right?" I ask, even as Tony gazes at Chloe like she’s the only person in the world. He’s probably just realized he’s got a good fifty minutes alone with her. Not paying attention to me anymore.
"Good luck." Chloe doesn’t seem as enthusiastic, but she’s holding it together. Someday she’ll probably give Tony a chance. Sweet how infatuated he is—but if he toned it down a bit, maybe she’d notice him more. Why are we women like that? Crazy.
I leave the Midnight Lounge and see my taxi waiting. Early—hopefully a good sign.
The ride’s short, and I’m back at EDL. I really didn’t want to return, but here I am. With a little luck, I won’t see Gabriel today.
With a little bad luck… I’ll run straight into his arms.
Just as I step out of the taxi, little Rosie walks past and stops a few steps away. She looks at me, confused, as I get out and close the door.
"Hello." Short. Friendly.
"Hey," I greet the tiny munchkin. Man, she’s adorable. Hard to believe Gabriel is her uncle. She tilts her head and then beams at me.
"You're the lady who let me eat cereal, right?" She seems to remember me. The taxi drives off, and I crouch down so we’re eye to eye.
"That’s right. Although I didn’t know back then that you have diabetes." I pull out my meter and show it to her. Immediately her eyes widen, and she beams. "Look! I have diabetes too. Type 1."
"Whoa. That’s so cool," she marvels, taking my meter in her tiny hands. Then she notices the cord. "Why’s yours tied up?"
"I lost it once and didn’t realize my blood sugar was too high. That was pretty dangerous. This way, I make sure it doesn’t happen again. Where’s your meter right now?"
Grinning proudly, she pulls it out of her pocket. She’s got a strap too, more like a thick glittery cord. "My mom made it. I used to leave it lying around all the time. Now I always have it with me no matter where I am."
Speaking of her mom, I glance around. No sign of her anywhere. "Where’s she now?"
"Hmm… don’t know." Well, that’s just great.
"And you’re playing out here all alone?" She immediately pouts and looks down at the ground, twisting her pink meter in her little fingers.
"Is your Uncle Gabriel around somewhere? He works at that company, right?" She nods silently. "I was just about to go visit him. Do you want to come with me? “I have a feeling why she's been wandering around alone out here.
She immediately shakes her head and stares so far down I can’t see her face. "Was he mean to you? He was really mean to me too. So, I told him off. Man, was he angry." I giggle, and she looks up at me shyly. "Oh yes. I was really mean back. He deserved it."
"Did you swear?"
"Yeah… I’m afraid so."
"Then you have to pay into the swear jar."
"They were really bad words." I fish my wallet out and hand her five pounds, which makes her eyes light up.
"Whoa, that bad?" I nod, and she giggles. "The jar’s gonna fill up really fast this way." Little businesswoman.
"If he keeps being mean, then yeah."
"He’s not always mean. But earlier, he was really nasty to me." She furrows her brow and snorts indignantly.
"And that’s why you ran away?" Caught. She hesitates, then reluctantly nods. "Where were you planning to go?"
"Doesn’t matter. Just away."
"I get it. I know how that feels. Sometimes I just want to run far away too. Somewhere nobody bothers me or is mean."
"Really? Even though you’re already grown up?"
"Oh yes. Unfortunately, there are lots of adults who are mean and annoying. Like, I now have to go see your Uncle Gabriel." I stick my tongue out, sigh, and roll my eyes—making her laugh.
"I stuck my tongue out at him too when I wasn’t allowed hot chocolate. I really wanted some." She sighs softly, looking at her meter. "I don’t want diabetes. It’s so… shitty."
"Here." I hand her a coin. "For the swear jar." At least that makes her smile briefly.