Chapter Three #3
“Of course,” Vivienne chimes and we all stand up.
But instead of saying her goodbyes, she blurts out, “Oh, one more thing.” Her eyebrows draw together, and as she fumbles with something on her left hand, she opens her mouth, as if to talk, then closes it again.
“Jacob and I are hosting a dinner tomorrow at our home,” she finally says.
“It’s not included in the program, because it’s an informal event for all speakers, but we’d love to see you there.
We’ll email all the details sometime tonight. ”
Dinner? At their home?
Her words confirm my suspicion. There is no way that they’re living together as friends.
Not when I know that Jacob has always despised roommates and could afford his own two-bedroom even back when he was a postdoc, thanks to his family money.
But this also means that Jacob and Vivienne aren’t only dating—they’re serious enough to have moved in together.
“Sounds great,” I bring out and press my hands into my thighs, palms suddenly damp with sweat as I track the million details of her that exude elegance and put-togetherness and maturity.
The subtle and symmetrical eyeliner, the whiff of cologne that’s flowery but not too sweet, the fact that she’s co-organized something as huge as the Sawyer’s, and is now calmly telling her boyfriend’s ex about their relationship.
I know I’m not competing with Vivienne. I don’t want Jacob, not anymore, and won’t gain anything if I hate her out of pettiness. But it still hurts, seeing how he’s come out of our breakup unscathed and not only built a successful lab but replaced me with someone better, too.
“Sure.” Lewis’s voice sounds far away, drowned out by the rush of my blood. “Thank you for inviting us.”
Vivienne says something that I barely register, something about wanting to talk to me and something she needs to get over with, and then she waves her hand through the air, only to catch it in front of her again and that’s when I see what she’s been fumbling around with all this time.
There’s a ring on her finger, one with a fine diamond that catches the sunlight slanting in through the windows. One she starts twirling again, and before she even opens her mouth, I know what’s about to happen.
“Jacob and I—we’re engaged,” she says, her tone hesitant despite the smile blooming on her face.
Something feels phenomenally off.
I try to breathe past the dizzying hurt stabbing at my lungs, but oxygen has gotten rare in this room, and my pulse shows no signs of slowing down.
Like on the plane, except now I know I’m not objectively in any danger.
I’m in an office with my academic rival and my ex’s fiancée, not a metal can that could fall out of the sky at any moment.
And yet lights flash in my brain telling me to get out of this room now.
I’m frozen as they both look at me, Vivienne expectantly, Lewis with an expression I can’t quite read, but softer than a moment ago. Like, he’s sorry? I don’t need him to feel sorry for me. There’s nothing to feel sorry about.
Wiping my clammy hands against my jeans, I force my vocal cords into action, yet all they manage to croak out is a weak, “Um.”
Fuck, I didn’t know my heart could even beat this fast.
I’m contemplating how I’m going to finish that sentence when of all people, Lewis comes to my rescue. He steps around his chair to stand closer at my side, and when his fingers graze against mine, I grab his hand, desperate for a tether to reality.
“Congratulations. We have to check if we’re free tomorrow, but thank you for inviting us,” he says, keeping his eyes on her face as he squeezes my hand.
His words from the plane come back to me, a quiet and reassuring breathe with me, and I focus on counting the ins and outs of my breath while pretending Vivienne’s news hasn’t just shaken me to my core.
Though my pulse keeps thudding maddeningly, my inhale for two, exhale for four has finally channeled enough oxygen to my brain to attempt stringing a few words together without sounding completely out of breath, and I bring out a low, “I’m so happy for you. ”
My response seems to be convincing enough to Vivienne, because relief settles on her face as she crosses the room toward us.
“Please, if there’s anything I can do, let me know.
I was really excited to meet you and now that you’re here—well, I hope we’ll have some opportunities to talk.
If you would like that, too, of course.”
I’m so focused on masking the panic that has whirred my organs into chaos that I barely listen to what she’s saying, instead taking the path of least resistance by nodding along. I hope that whatever is happening on my face resembles a convincing smile. “Sure.”
Lewis clears his throat, and as he steps toward the door, he pulls me with him. “We need to get going.”
“Of course!” Vivienne rushes to say. “You must be jet-lagged. I’ll see you tomorrow—if not at the conference, then at dinner.
” She squeezes my shoulder in goodbye and when she looks at our joined hands, she gets the same expression as when she spotted us outside her office, the lines around her eyes crinkling with the depth of her smile.
Then she gives me a conspiratorial wink.
“Frances, I’m so glad we finally got to meet.
It makes me feel better, knowing you won’t be coming alone tomorrow, but in the company of someone as lovely as Lewis. ”
My body still on autopilot with the only goal of finally getting me out of this room, I do my nod and smile again, and even manage a weak-sounding “Yeah.”
Then, Lewis tugs me out of the office and pulls the door shut behind us.