Chapter 2
Lily
The weekend wasn't any better than Friday.
I spent the entire time trying to do some Internet stalking on Kyle, but every time his face appeared on my screen, I was too nervous to continue.
I had him blocked from every possible place. Every time I created a new social media account, I made sure that no one from my past could see or contact me, and he was part of the group of people I wanted to keep away from me.
This didn't stop me from using my fake account to access the Instagram profile I'd memorized from Marlin's phone.
I didn't know what exactly I wanted to find out, but I didn't expect him to look this good. He looked different, more adult, more mature, more interesting.
He now wears glasses, apparently due to working at a computer for so long.
What a shame! Those blue eyes should’ve been shown to the world, not hidden behind lenses.
He looked taller than I remembered, his skin now tanned from the Australian beaches.
He wore his hair short now, but his caramel-brown bangs still stuck out unruly at the sides.
He'd learned to surf, so I could admire his bare, toned torso in some of the photos while he was on the beach.
His profile didn't tell me much about his personal life.
It was mostly photos of landscapes from Sydney, photos of him surfing, some architectural shots of buildings I didn't recognize, and a few group pictures with people I'd never seen before.
No significant other that I could detect.
No children. Just him, looking effortlessly handsome in casual clothes, with a smile that seemed more confident than I remembered.
"You're staring at your phone again," Claudette said, pulling me back to reality.
It was Saturday, and we were at our favorite brunch spot downtown. I’d picked a table outside, despite the slight chill in the air. Sitting indoors felt too confining today.
"I'm not staring," I lied, quickly locking my screen and placing my phone face down on the table. "I was checking work emails."
Marlin snorted. "On a Saturday? Even for you, that's extreme." She took a sip of her mimosa, eyeing me over the rim of her glass. "You were looking him up, weren't you?"
I didn't bother denying it. These two could read me better than I liked to admit.
"I just wanted to see what he's been up to," I said defensively. "It's been ten years. I was curious."
"And?" Claudette leaned forward, her curls bouncing with the movement. "What did you find out?"
"Nothing useful," I admitted. "Just that he's been in Sydney, he likes photography, and he doesn't post much about his personal life."
"Does he know you work at Waldos?" Claudette asked the question I'd been obsessing over since Friday.
"I don't know," I answered honestly. "But I can't imagine he'd take a job specifically to see me after all this time. That would be..." I couldn't find the right word.
"Stalkerish? Romantic? Depending on what happened between you two, it could be either," Marlin pointed out.
I shook my head. "Neither. It would be pointless." I picked up my avocado toast, hoping food would distract me from this conversation. "It's been too long. Whatever we were to each other, it's obsolete now."
"You know, you've never actually told us what happened," Claudette said gently. "If you want to talk about it..."
"I don't," I said quickly, too quickly for my taste. "It's not important anymore." Or so I wanted to believe. But even saying that, my brain doubted my words.
My friends exchanged a look but didn't push. That was one of the things I loved about them. They knew when to back off.
"Well, then," Marlin raised her glass, "to new beginnings. And to show this blast from the past that you're doing just fine without him."
I managed a smile and clinked my glass against them, but the pit in my stomach wouldn't go away. Because the truth was, I wasn't fine. I hadn't been fine since the moment I saw his face on that screen. And I wasn't sure I would be fine once I saw him in person.
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"You're distracted today," Dad commented as we walked Bailey, his golden retriever, through the park on Sunday afternoon.
It was our routine. Every Sunday, I'd meet him at his house, and we'd take Bailey for a long walk, catching up on each other's week.
It was the most stable part of my adult life, this connection to my father.
Even though Mom had passed away five years ago, Dad had maintained our Sunday tradition religiously.
"Just thinking about work," I replied, watching Bailey bound ahead to sniff at a tree. "We have a big project coming up that I need to prepare for."
It wasn't entirely a lie. There was a project. It just wasn't the reason for my distraction.
Dad studied me with those keen eyes that always seemed to see right through me.
He looked good for fifty-two, still fit from his daily swimming routine, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly trimmed.
The only thing I got from my mother was her abundant blond hair, so I am a copy of my father.
When people met us together, they always commented on how much I resembled him, especially around the eyes.
"Work, huh?" He didn't sound convinced. "Must be a big project."
I looped my arm through his as we walked. "You know how I get. I like to be prepared. I’m probably the most organized person you know."
"Of course you are," he chuckled. "You've been making lists and plans since you could hold a crayon. Remember how you used to write out your entire day in that little notebook? Even scheduled your snack times."
I smiled despite myself. "I liked knowing what to expect."
"Still do, apparently." He patted my hand. "But life doesn't always cooperate with our plans, Lily. Sometimes, the unexpected turns out to be exactly what we need."
If only he knew how unexpectedly my week was about to get. But I couldn't tell him about it. I'd never told him the whole truth about what happened back then, and I wasn't about to start now.
"Maybe," I conceded. "But I still prefer my way."
Dad just smiled and whistled for Bailey, who came bounding back with a stick in his mouth. Simple. Predictable. I envied the dog's uncomplicated existence sometimes.
Sunday night found me standing in front of my closet, deliberating over what to wear tomorrow like it was the most important decision of my life.
Everything was a mess, and I hadn't even seen him yet.
How would I act if I ran into him at the office? What would I say? Would he recognize me immediately, or had I changed too much over the years?
I'd changed a lot. The shy, vulnerable girl I'd been at eighteen was gone, and in her place stood a confident, accomplished woman who didn't need anyone's approval. Especially not his.
I finally selected a sleek black pantsuit with a crisp white blouse, my power outfit. The one I wore when I needed to command a room. It was perhaps overkill for a typical Monday, but nothing about tomorrow would be normal.
My plan was simple: avoid all common areas during peak hours, take the stairs instead of the elevator whenever possible, eat lunch at my desk, and leave precisely at five.
If, by some chance, we did cross paths, I would be polite but distant.
Professional. Like he was any other colleague that I didn't know well.
I laid my clothes out neatly, set my alarm, and got into bed at exactly 10:00 PM, just like every Sunday night.
But sleep wouldn't come. My mind kept replaying fragments of memories: the big closet in the hospital, the park behind the church, and a boy with kind eyes who distracted me from the hard reality I had back then—at least until everything went downhill.
And now here we were, about to work in the same building like strangers with a shared history neither of us acknowledged.
When sleep finally came, it was fitful and filled with dreams of running down endless hallways, always one step behind or ahead of someone I couldn't quite see.
Morning would come too soon, and with it, the reality I couldn't escape.
No matter how perfect my plan is, tomorrow, I will be breathing the same air as Kyle for the first time in a decade. And deep down, beneath all my careful preparations and practiced indifference, I was terrified.