40. Lila
Chapter forty
Lila
“Where is the final proposal for—” Kelsey stops herself before saying the name of our client in front of Izzy and Becca.
“I’m almost done with it,” I say, though I still haven’t figured out what I’m supposed to include in two of the images for the client.
“What do you mean? You were supposed to give me the final version yesterday. You’ve been here late working on it for weeks. It should have taken you two weeks tops. How are you not done?”
“Well, we’re just going to go get some coffee,” Izzy says as she and Becca both hastily grab their cell phones and head toward the door.
I feel my face turn red, unsure if I’m more mortified by my inability to do my job or my friends seeing me chastised by my boss.
“I’m sorry,” I say as the door swings shut behind Izzy.
“I don’t need you to be sorry, I need you to explain how it’s taking you this long,” Kelsey says as she crosses her arms.
“I…”—I feel the tears start to build in my eyes, a curse I have any time I feel like I’m getting in trouble—“I don’t know how to do most of the things in it.” Shit. I can’t believe I just admitted that to my boss. Now I’m going to be heartbroken and unemployed.
“Why didn’t you ask?”
“You hired me to do this job. I wanted to prove to you I could do it.”
Kelsey sighs, her arms still crossed, but there’s something softer in her expression now. “Look, I get that you want to prove yourself, but struggling alone doesn’t help anyone—not you, not me, and certainly not the client. Everyone needs support at some point. I understand wanting to do things right. I’m a bit of a perfectionist myself,” she admits, her voice losing its edge.
I look down, unable to meet her eyes. “I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle it. You hired me to do this job, and I wanted to prove I could do it perfectly, without needing anyone else.”
“Perfectly?” Kelsey echoes, one eyebrow raised. “If I expected perfection from everyone, nothing would ever get done. Besides, no one does this work alone. I have mentors, I ask for input. We all need help to grow.”
Her words sink in, settling in a way that feels almost painful. The need to be perfect, to prove I don’t need anyone else—it’s more than just this job. It’s why I didn’t call him after he left. Why I pretend I’m fine, that I can handle the breakup on my own, even though it feels like I’m barely holding myself together. I’ve spent my whole life being the smart, strong, overachiever. It’s how I managed to have my own identity when competing against a sports phenom for a brother. And now, as an adult, I don’t want people to see me when I’m not put together and strong. I don’t want people to see my weakness.
I look up at her, suddenly seeing Kelsey as more than just my demanding boss. She’s someone who has had to ask for help too, who’s needed support at times. “So…you don’t think less of me for not knowing everything?”
She chuckles, her tone lighter. “Of course not. If anything, I’d think less of you for pretending you didn’t need help. You’re still learning, and that’s okay. Don’t be afraid to reach out when you need someone.”
I nod slowly, feeling a weight shift inside me. Her words are like a soft nudge, something that hits deeper than the immediate problem at hand. Maybe it’s time to let go of my need to appear flawless, to prove I don’t need anyone—even if that someone is the person who left.
Kelsey gestures toward my laptop. “Show me what you’re stuck on. Let’s work through it together and maybe we can get it done in time.”
As we go over the project, she’s patient and encouraging, helping me realize that my mistakes aren’t the end of the world. Izzy and Becca return later, both of them jumping in to help proofread and review the proposal. Bryn stops by a couple of hours later with pizza, and it turns into an all-hands-on-deck situation.
Strangely, when Kelsey finally hits submit on our proposal, I feel more at ease than I have in weeks. I realize that if it’s okay to admit I need help here, maybe it’s also okay to reach out in other parts of my life, too.
After everyone heads home for the night, I sit quietly, staring at the blank message screen on my phone. I’ve been holding on to my pride, my need to show him that I’m perfectly fine on my own. But maybe—just maybe—I don’t have to do everything alone. And maybe reaching out to him doesn’t mean I’m any less strong.
I take a deep breath and start typing. Hey, I know it’s been a while, but…do you want to talk?
Kelsey’s words echo in my mind, reminding me that sometimes, strength comes from knowing when you don’t have to be perfect—or alone.
I delete my message, knowing JT wouldn’t read it anyway. Plus, I have a much better plan for how to get through his defenses.