22. KYLE
22
KYLE
“No Larry?” Taylor asks, stepping into my office without a knock or a hello. It’s enough to break me out of the daydream I’ve been somewhat trapped in since Larry walked out earlier on. I don’t know if he actually meant to quit, or if he just needed some space, but I didn’t stop him.
I debated messaging him, calling him, doing something more than just dropping him an email and asking whether he’s coming back in, but I can’t bring myself to do it. This entire situation feels like it’s left me paralysed, and I hate myself for it.
This is why I don’t do feelings. The second feelings get involved is when things get complicated, and when things get complicated, I see myself running for the hills. It’s about all I can do not to completely lose it.
“No Larry,” I reply. “He… he wasn’t feeling too well so he had to head home for the afternoon. Think he might be reachable by email if you want to talk to him? But he was feeling pretty bad.”
I’m covering for him. I’m lying to my boss—to my friend—to cover Larry’s back just in case he decides he wants to come back, and I’m once again wondering what the hell I think I’m playing at.
“Well.” He steps inside, closing the door behind him. “I think I’ve found a solution to our little predicament if you want to hear it.”
I feel myself perk up at that. He has to be joking. A chance, after all of this?
I think back to how stupid I’ve been keeping this from Larry, keeping him on the edges of it all just so he can keep his job. He doesn’t know I’m doing it for him, and maybe if I’d just talked to him this could have been solved sooner. It’s hard to say. He probably never wants to see me again.
“I’m all ears,” I say. “What’s the big plan?”
Taylor makes his way into the office and sits down opposite me, and I prepare for what he has to say next, even though it probably doesn’t matter.
I finish my day at the office; one of the rare days where I actually finish on time. I can’t focus. I can’t bring myself to do much of anything. How can it be that my assistant is the reason I’ve done less work than normal?
Though that hardly seems fair. It’s my fault. My fault for keeping things from him, for trying to help him without him even asking for help. And now look. Everything is just falling apart.
I make my way out of the office and head towards my car, only to find that someone’s leaning against it, eyeing me. She’s average height, slender, her fiery red hair tied back into a severe ponytail that just seems to make her look angry. And she’s staring daggers at me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?”
I blink, and look behind me. She can’t be talking to me. I don’t even know who she is.
“Yes, I am talking to you,” she says, getting up off my car and walking towards me. “You’ve got some fucking explaining to do, because right now I have a very dear friend of mine utterly devastated in his apartment, and it’s all your fault.”
“I don’t even know who you are.”
“Offensive, but fair,” she replies. “I’m Rosemary. Rose? Larry’s probably mentioned me at some point.”
And the pieces suddenly slot into place. She came in so all-guns-blazing I could barely get my head on straight when she started talking.
“Sorry. Took me a minute to catch up there,” I say. “What’s happened? Is he okay? I’m so confused.”
“What do you mean, what’s happened? Of course he isn’t okay,” she snaps. “You’ve put him through hell these past couple of days. He’s fucking devastated.”
“I didn’t mean to?—”
“I don’t care what you meant to do. What I care about is what’s happened,” she interrupts. “And what’s happened is that he’s upset because of the way you treated him, and now he doesn’t have a job, and he doesn’t have you, and he feels like total shit.”
“What does he need me for? He’s got Wesley, hasn’t he?” And it’s a cheap shot. I know it’s a cheap shot. But it’s true, isn’t it? He’s got someone else.
“Wesley?”
“Yeah, the ex-boyfriend.”
“Wesley is out of the picture,” Rosemary says. “He was never really in the picture. He just showed up and… you know Larry. Larry’s too nice to say no to someone who’s being nice to him. And they have history.”
“How much history?”
“Enough that Larry wanted to give him another chance,” Rosemary replied. “But he didn’t deserve it, and he fucked it up pretty much the second Larry was out of sight. It’s sad really. He… he lets people in really easily. He wants to love and be loved, and people just keep letting him down.”
She eyes me carefully at the end. She’s letting me know I’ve let him down, that I’ve fucked this up. Larry really is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, and knowing I’ve hurt him makes me feel like a colossal arsehole.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” I say. “That’s the last thing I wanted to do. I just… I wanted him to keep his job, wanted him to get to live the life he’d fought so hard to get.”
“Yeah, but he wanted you to be a part of that, you idiot,” Rosemary snaps. “What do you mean, you wanted him to keep his job? I didn’t know his job was under threat?”
I tell her about the conversation I’d had with Taylor, how things weren’t looking so good for Larry if he continued to be my assistant, and that I chose to have him as my assistant instead of my boyfriend.
“I made the choice for him,” I say. “I… I never thought for a second he would want to choose me over a job, that’s stupid. So I didn’t give him the choice.”
“You mean you didn’t want to choose him over your job?”
“That wasn’t one of the options,” I say. “It was him or or his job. I was going to be safe regardless and… I couldn’t do that to him. I didn’t want to hurt him. And it turns out I’ve done that anyway.”
Rosemary lets out a groan. “Honestly, boys are so fucking stupid,” she says. “You both have some explaining to do to one another to figure out what the fuck is going on. You’re both dancing around the fact that you really like each other, and while it’s cute and all that, it’s fucking infuriating to watch you both just get in each other’s way with this stuff. Honestly, I don’t know what you’re both thinking.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. She’s so blunt, and maybe that’s what I need to hear. Sure, Mike has been trying to explain it to me, trying to tell me just to express my feelings for him, but Rosemary has set it out so plainly. It seems so simple.
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know if talking to him right now is going to help,” she says. “Look, tell me where you want him and I’ll get him there.”
A plan starts to formulate in my head. It might not be very grand, or very exciting, but it will solve everything. I hope.