6. Hana
“Why did you meet him?” Jeremy asked, his voice a curious mix of whine and imperiousness that grated on my already-scraped-raw nerves. I shoved my hands in my pockets outside the restaurant, stowing the pass Lennon Cruz had handed me even as I tracked their car. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the pass, what I wanted to do, and Jeremy’s presence wasn’t making that any better.
“Why, Hana? He’s old news,” Jeremy stated. “Your clichéd high-school phase. Why do women think athletes are hot? They’re sweaty and stupid—useless to society.” He perked up and refocused on me. “You have to admit, with everything you’re working on here, your life is way better.”
“Do I?” I asked.
Jeremy grabbed my arm, pulling me out of my foggy haze. Aiki used to grab me. My mother, too. Grab me, shake me, put me where they wanted me because they could—because I allowed it and because they wanted to show who was in charge in my life. Not me. That was the clear answer from my mother, from Aiki, and now, from Jeremy. My thoughts, my feelings were secondary. So much for the solicitude he’d shown before. Now, because of a little potential competition, Jeremy’s true self had burst forth.
No wonder I hadn’t wanted him; I must have sensed this ugliness lurking below the urbane surface. My biology professor had once told the class we all could feel danger, but we’d learned to suppress that gut instinct.
“Hey! Are you coming?” called Esther, one of my colleagues and another of Jeremy’s employees. She came toward us, shoving her glasses up her nose as her eyes moved from Jeremy’s tight grip to my face and the tension between us. She gave me a questioning look. Whatever expression she received back—my face was stiff with anxiety—appeared to have an effect.
“Let’s go, Jeremy. We need to eat before we get back to the lab to finish these current projections, right? You wanted to go over the lift mechanism, you said.”
“I expect you to be there, running that data, when we get to the office, Hana.” Jeremy’s voice dripped like acid over me.
I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to be near him, not if he thought he could bully me into a decision. Yet even with all those emotions choking me, I nodded.
Old habits died hard, I supposed, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was used to deferring. To Jeremy now, it seemed, and for years before that, to my mother’s will.
I sighed in relief when Jeremy’s fingers uncoiled from my arm. I pulled back with such speed that I stumbled. Esther steadied me with a gentle hand. “He’s done this before,” she breathed into my ear before herding Jeremy away. “And I’m going to let Lennon know.”
What, exactly, had he done before? Who was Lennon? Why would Esther tell me any of this? I wasn’t sure what to make of her comments, and my head ached too much to sort through that set of information.
I watched them walk away, and I didn’t go to the lab; I called a rideshare to go home.
I didn’t have a car, and I hadn’t driven much even before the car accident. Once I’d arrived on the West Coast, I hadn’t needed a car, for which I’d been so very thankful.
Maybe if I’d pushed back harder, been more rebellious in high school, by forcing the issue to buy myself a car…or insisting on spending more time with Pax, I’d have the life I wanted now. I pulled out the pass Cruz had given me and flipped it over, considering. What would the life I want look like?
The first thing to surface was Paxton. He wasn’t wrong when he’d said we were soulmates. I’d missed him with every single breath I’d taken these past three years—the way I would miss not being able to walk. I was sure of that comparison because for weeks, I hadn’t been able to walk. And for months after that, I’d struggled to get my leg strong enough to hold my weight. Such a simple thing, walking—until you couldn’t.
I didn’t want to depend on Paxton for my happiness. He’d already proven once that I shouldn’t. He’d left me, and I’d been miserable. Only a fool would believe he’d changed, that he wouldn’t hurt me again, right?
I was a fool.
These thoughts percolated through my mind as I walked into my efficiency apartment, curled up in my blanket, and replayed the morning’s conversation with Paxton over and over. He’d made me feel good. Respected. Safe. Loved.
Happiness—that emotion I’d missed but could barely imagine—drifted upward, its sweetness like a tempting flower. But if I took what Paxton seemed to be offering, would I have to leave the project? Lose myself in him as my mother had always worried I would?
I didn’t know. And because I didn’t, I stayed huddled in my bed.
I woke, groggy from dark dreams, to my ringing phone. This was why I rarely napped. I never woke properly from a mid-day sleep. “What?”
Not my normal answer, but I was still out of it. What had I dreamed? Something to do with Paxton being hurt—and Jeremy had been there.
“Hana, you need to get over here now,” Esther nearly shrieked into the phone. “There’s something wrong with the simulations.”
“No, there isn’t. I triple-checked them.” I was sure my math was right. Unless someone—Jeremy—had changed the projections, there was no way the simulation wouldn’t run smoothly.
“Jeremy’s going ballistic.”
I yawned. “Not sure why that’s my problem.”
“He’s talking about removing you from the project,” Esther said. “Hana, he may fire you.”
“Oh.” Well, that would be a major problem, but I couldn’t imagine Jeremy following through on his threat. I was the only person who really understood the physics of the structure. As Jeremy had pointed out many times: I was integral to his team.
I looked over at the clock, trying to orient myself. “I’m going to be late,” I exclaimed.
“You already are,” Esther said.
“Not to the lab. To Pax’s game.”
“Listen to me,” she sputtered. “Jeremy’s dead serious about firing you. And angry.”
I absorbed that information. “He hurt me this morning.”
Esther grunted. “I’m not surprised, honestly. He’s obsessed with you.”
“We’ll have to talk more later, Esther. Good luck with Jeremy. And for the record, I triple-checked that data. The only way the simulation failed is if someone wanted it to.”