I’m so wrapped up in my misery that I don’t even hear the front door open and close again. I only realize I’m no longer alone when a figure settles onto the couch next to me and gathers me up in her arms, holding me tight.
“Oh, Hollie, what happened?” Bianca asks, rocking me back and forth. The warmth and love in her voice sets me off on another crying jag.
She patiently waits for me to get myself together enough to speak, which is honestly some kind of miracle with her. Usually, she’d steamroll right over me to find out what was wrong and who she would have to fight for my honor.
“I got fired.” Is all I manage to get out before I’m drawn back into my cloud of self-loathing.
“Wait, he dated you, thenfiredyou?” She looks around the room briefly before asking, “Is Violet home?”
I shake my head, keeping my face buried in her shoulder. It feels like the world is falling to dust around me and I can’t bear to look at it.
“Okay, hold on, I’ll text her and get us set up.” She leaves me on the couch and returns with water, wine, a box of tissues, and cheese. So much cheese. Did we have all this in the house? I grab a handful of gouda and shove it in my mouth before following it with a healthy swig of the white wine she’s poured for me. If ever there was a time to eat my feelings, this would be it.
I’m starting in on my second glass when Violet rushes into the house.
“How is she doing? What happened?” The questions are directed towards Bianca and not me, which is a good thing, since I’m honestly not sure how I’m going to get through the explanation.
“She’s moved on from uncontrollable sobs to crying in between handfuls of cheese, so I would say that’s an improvement.” Bianca eyes Violet somewhat suspiciously before she asks, “Where were you? The campus is twenty minutes away, and you got here in like five.”
Violet looks down at her shoes and my eyes narrow in on her. She only does that when she lies.
“I was around the corner. I have a new study group and one girl lives a few blocks away.”
I’m expecting Bianca to call her out on the obvious fabrication, but she brings the subject back to me. “That’s good. I was waiting for you to get here before I started the interrogation.”
Violet settles in beside me and starts rubbing my back in soothing circular motions. “What’s going on, Hollie? You can tell us.”
“He found out about my father.” Both my friends let out simultaneous sounds of sympathy and understanding.
“But I thought you were going to tell him anyway,” Violet inquires cautiously, like I might explode at any second. She wouldn’t be wrong. My chest feels hollow. I’m sure you could fit a bomb in the space where my heart used to be.
“I was, I swear. I was going to tell him tonight after the dinner. But,” I take a breath to steady myself so that I can get the actual words out, “We ran into Patrick there.”
“Holy shit,” Bianca mumbles, while Violet merely lets out a tiny gasp. “Don’t tell me he actually bothered to speak to you. Frankly, I’m surprised he even remembers what you look like.”
She’s not wrong. I prayed that he’d walk right by without even noticing me. Some prayers just go unanswered.
“Oh, he recognized me alright. In fact, he didn’t even seem surprised to see me there, which is crazy. He also insinuated I was working for him, like some kind of corporate spy or something.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Archer actually believed that shit?”
“Yup, hook, line and sinker. He pulled me into some hallway and fired my sorry ass. I’m pretty sure that means I won’t be seeing him anymore.”
Violet hugs me tighter while tears spill down my cheeks. I’m sure I look like a well-dressed clown right now, but I couldn’t care less. “Didn’t you tell him how you don’t even really know your dad?”
“I tried!” The exclamation comes out of my mouth as a half moaning, half sobbing sound. “He wouldn’t even listen to me. He couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”
The heavy despair in the pit of my stomach is slowly being joined by another emotion, annoyance verging on anger.
“That really sucks,” Violet says.
“You’re right, it does. After everything we’ve been through, he wouldn’t even give me three minutes to explain.”
“He’s an asshole,” Bianca chimes in supportively. Except that he’s not an asshole. Not really. Sure, he has asshole qualities. He’s a workaholic and a perfectionist, not only for himself but for everyone around him. Still, once you get past that hardened, ruthless businessman facade, there beats the heart of a man that’s looking for someone to love and love him in return. To capture that feeling of family from his youth.
“I’m in love with him,” I whisper. “I’d barely even admitted it to myself, but I love him and he can’t stand to be in the same room with me. Now, what am I supposed to do?”
“If it’s meant to be, it will work itself out. Otherwise, he’s not worthy of your love and you’ll find someone who is. You can chalk this up to experience,” Violet says sweetly.