16. Jude
Wednesday, October 25th
I want to wake up next to Lucienne every morning.
Having her body wrapped around me is the only way I want to fall asleep each night. Searching for one another in the dark, sweet whispers turned to gentle moans in the moonlight. Her hand on my chest, drawing circles with her fingertips. Those curls bunched in my hand, my mouth at her neck. Telling me how much she cares about me as she throws her head back, baring her chest for me to hold onto.
I drew us a hot bath, holding her in my arms. She closed her eyes and hummed to herself, resting her head on my shoulder. We soaked, we kissed, and we talked for hours until the bubbles disappeared. Then we made love on the bathroom floor, slipping and sliding along the cold tiles.
She has all of me. Everything I have to give is hers.
We drank coffee naked in her living room, her freckled nose scrunching as she laughed. I tried to remember every sound, every touch, every piece of her I uncovered because I knew there would be an end to this secluded bliss. But Lucienne is a perpetual dream, one I can take with me.
Leaving her was like raking my face against hot coals. We only had the day off before having to return to work. The world doesn’t stop because you fall in love, sadly. But I want to know what comes next.
“I was out of the office on Monday and got caught up on Tuesday, but yes, the prototypes have successfully gone through testing and we’re in our final phases of building the site in full. It is ahead of schedule, which means we are on track for our deadline.”
I’m in our weekly stakeholder meeting and my update is met with smiles and nods. The web developers are hard at work piecing everything together. Lucienne is on hand to ensure her designs remain intact.
It’s a relief that despite the known frustrations experienced by all involved, we’re almost done. Then, it’ll be time to conduct a postmortem meeting and discuss what worked, what didn’t, and whether this system will remain in place at Wilder.
The conversation with Daemon about the possible layoffs is preying on my mind. If we make it through this meeting without a mention of layoffs, then it may be safe to say they aren’t happening.
When I signed in on Tuesday, I scoured my emails for any hint of confirmation, but there was nothing. Just meeting invites, status updates, and the web developers testing feedback. Business as usual; nothing out of the ordinary.
There’s ten minutes left. Good ole Greg would be the one to break the news. He would have approached senior leadership about the project’s impending success and if this system should be a part of our approach to all web-based projects.
I’ve been reiterating to him that there are significant challenges and gaps that this system presents. If he’s worth a shit, he would be taking those into account.
“Before we conclude, there is something important we have to discuss. There has also been a strategic meeting added to everyone’s calendars for tomorrow,” he says.
Fuck me. Please, don’t.
“I had my worries about this project, but it seems as though this system has allowed us to expedite our processes and produce the same level of quality in our product. I have already discussed this with leadership, and it’s been decided that this system will be maintained at Wilder moving forward. However, this does mean that redundancies now exist. On Friday, there will be announced layoffs. Tomorrow’s strategic meeting is for our project managers and departmental heads to decide which positions are no longer relevant. I know that layoffs are a sensitive subject, so we ask that you do not discuss this outside of our stakeholder spaces. Thank you.”
I feel myself break out in a cold sweat. I guess fuck that postmortem meeting; they’ve already decided this is staying. Thank fuck my chair is holding me upright because my legs go weak.
Two days? We’re supposed to make these kinds of decisions tomorrow and then just sit back and watch as people lose their jobs? The thought makes me physically recoil, the shiner on my left eye aching slightly.
Everyone is saying their goodbyes, but I leave the Teams meeting by slamming my laptop closed. I don’t want to do this. No part of me wants to have a hand in these decisions. And the last thing I want is to see Lucienne’s name on any list of possible disposable personnel. That is what Wilder will reduce her to, a redundancy. Someone whose job is no longer viable, satisfied by this stupid templated fucking system.
This cannot be happening.
If it weren’t for her, if it weren’t for the web developers, the testers, the multimedia team, Wilder would be nothing. I can see clear as day that this decision will not only leave tons of people unemployed, but the company runs the risk of ruining its own reputation.
They’re moving too fast with this decision; they aren’t talking to the right people.
I dig my phone out of my pocket and try to call Lucienne, but she doesn’t pick up. So I text her. And I’m fucking praying she sees it soon and calls me back so I can get ahead of this.
Jude:Call me when you can. It’s really important.
Instead of driving myself nuts waiting to hear back from Lucienne, I call Cassie. As I’m dialing her number, I see an influx of texts come in from Daemon, but he’ll have to wait. I need to talk to someone removed from this situation because last time Daemon gave me advice, I ignored it. And now I feel like a jackass.
“Juju! You beat me to it; you must have missed me, baby brother,” she laughs.
I sigh, trying to keep my breathing under control. “I always miss you, Cassie-Cakes. You have a few minutes? I’m kind of fucked.” My voice is shaking.
I hear her walk down a hallway and close a door behind her. “What’s wrong?” Her tone is uneasy.
I don’t know where to start. My thoughts are split between telling her that I’ve found someone I could see myself with for a long time, someone to love, and how my professional life is crashing down on me.
“Hello? Jude? What’s happening?” she says impatiently.
“I’m here, sorry. I met someone. Her name is Lucienne. I’m out of my mind over this woman,” I rasp. My heart wells with pride talking about her. I want to talk about her to anyone who is willing to listen.
She sighs. “I thought you were hurt or in trouble or something. Jesus, Jude. Who is she?”
“I work with her; she’s a web designer. We’ve been seeing each other for a while—”
“A colleague? Baby brother, that’s—”
“No, listen. I—I’m falling for her, but I was just told there are going to be layoffs at Wilder and she’s on the chopping block; I know it. I have to meet with people and help decide who stays and who goes. I don’t know what to do.” A lump is forming in my throat, my mouth dry.
“Oh shit. Does she know yet? About the layoffs I mean?”
“No, and Daemon told me I shouldn’t tell her—well, at the time it was because it was a rumor, but it’s happening now. What do I do Cass?”
She lets out a long exhale and there’s a moment or two of silence. My heart is hammering in my ears. My big sister has to have better advice than Daemon. She always does.
“Go and tell her, right now. Screw professional protocol, if that’s what you’re worried about. If you think you’re protecting her or sparing her feelings by keeping this a secret, you’re a dumbass, Jude.”
I really love my sister. “I can’t. I’m working. And what if I tell her and it doesn’t help anything? Should I confirm if her job is actually at risk or—”
“Jude, if there is a possibility that she’s about to lose her job, she’s going to be upset no matter what. You have to take the risk. Caring about her won’t protect her from shitty things happening; sorry, baby brother. I think the best thing is to tell her and deal with the fallout, whatever it may be. If you don’t, she’ll think you were keeping something from her, lying to her.”
I want my love to keep her safe, to stave off all of the shitty things that may come her way. I want to believe that I can shield her from feeling rejected, as if she’s not good enough.
“I can’t lose her, Cass,” I whisper.
“Then don’t,” she tells me.
The rest of my day is pure hell. Everyone is scrambling, trying to figure out how to plan for the upcoming mass exodus. This is going to be a large-scale downsizing. I’ve spoken with three department heads and we’re already looking at nearly fifty people being let go.
Tomorrow, there will be more.
I’m so bogged down, putting out fires left, right, and center, that I don’t have the time to let my panic set in again. When in a work crisis, I’m honed in on the task in front of me. It’s how I produce some of my best work.
I never responded to Daemon and every time I reach for my phone to see if Lucienne texted me back or called me, I’m yanked into another meeting. I keep our text thread open and I never see those fucking three bubbles pop up.
I even tried her on Teams. Nothing.
When my workday concludes, the sun is already setting. It’s way past regular business hours. Shit; I haven’t been able to talk to her once. I run to my bedroom and change into something a bit warmer. I’m going over to see her no matter what.
As I hop into my jeans, I call her again, but she doesn’t pick up. I try her a third time as I shrug into my jacket, but again she doesn’t pick up.
Before I pull away from the curb to head to her apartment, I text her. I hope she sees it before I show up. The drive is short, but I’m thinking through this conversation and all possible outcomes. What will I say? How will I say it? What do I do if she’s upset?
I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel when I pull up to her curb. I dash up to the front door and knock. My breathing is erratic, like I’ve been running all day to get to her. She doesn’t respond. I knock again and hear movement on the other side of the door. Then a sniffle.
No.
“Lucienne, it’s me. Can you open the door?” My forehead is pressed against the door, my eyes closed.
Please let me in, beautiful.
I hear a lock click and the door opens, causing me to almost fall on top of her. When I regain my balance and take in the sight of her, my world shatters. Her eyes are puffy and red, tears streaking her cheeks. Her lip is quivering and she’s choking back heavy sobs.
She doesn’t reach for me and I’m dying to touch her. “What do you want, J-Jude?” she croaks. Her words sting; her voice is cold. I haven’t heard this voice since we first met, when her walls were up. I reach for her, but she recoils, keeping her arms crossed tight against her chest.
“Is this—are you—the layoffs?” I can’t speak.
“Colette told me,” she snaps, her eyes overflowing with tears. I want to wipe them away.
“And you and the other project managers are going to h-help decide who else g-gets cut,” she chokes, her voice cracking. She’s so angry, nearly venomous. My heart aches, but I’ll take it.
Give me everything you’ve got, Amato.
Please, let me take it on. Let me harbor all that anger for you so you don’t need to feel it.
“Wait—who else? What do you mean? I don’t want to, Lucienne—you need to understand. I have to. It’s my job—” I’m trying to explain myself as fast as I can because every second she’s crying in front of me, I feel like she’s slipping away.
Her temper flares and her face distorts into a display of rage. “C-colette and I, w-we’re both g-gone.”
No, please.
She moves to shut the door, but I slam my palm against it. I need her to listen to me. I’m fraying at the seams.
“Lucienne, I’m—I’m so sorry. I’d do anything to keep your job safe, to keep you—” Her hands are on my chest and she’s pushing me through her doorway. I try to hold her hands in mine but she steps away from me, increasing the distance between us.
She’s crying hard, wiping her face with the palms of her hands. Her whole body is trembling. I can’t lose her. I can’t let her go. I just want my love to be enough.
“After everything I t-told you, it d-doesn’t mean a-anything.”
I clutch my chest. If she would just let me explain. All I’ve done is share feedback about this fucking system and advocate for her work. I’m trying to find a way to stop this pile of shit from continuing to roll downhill.
“I didn’t—it wasn’t my decision, I swear—” I stammer.
She cuts me off, but I can’t speak anyway. “Jude, p-please, I-I want you t-to go. Please.” She won’t look at me. I’m willing her to look in my eyes for just one second, then she’ll see I didn’t know. I had nothing to do with this.
“Lucienne, please, don’t do this. Please, let me come in—”
“I need s-some space, Jude. Please.”
I stumble backward and she closes the door quickly, leaving me clutching my chest in the tiny hallway. She’s just on the other side of that door and yet she feels like she’s miles away.
I can feel her lips on my neck, her fingers in my hair. We were just making love, moaning into each other’s mouth, clawing at each other’s skin.
Maybe if I ignored Daemon’s advice and told her last week, she wouldn’t be sitting in her apartment thinking she’s worthless. This beautiful, courageous woman I love so fucking much.
I didn’t get ahead of this like I should have. I chose my job. I chose fucking team structure over her trust. I should have told her when these rumors popped up. I see that now, so maybe this is what I deserve.
Clumsily, I make it back to my car and slump in the front seat. The silence is deafening, the last of the leaves having fallen from the trees and crumpled into themselves. The shrubs that line the street have thinned.
The magic of fall is gone and all I feel is a hollowness I didn’t think was possible.