Page 98 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

‘Am I?’ I put my spoon back in the now empty bowl of soup and run a hand frustratedly through my hair. ‘I’m definitely confused. I didn’t just like my job, I loved it. I worked so hard at it so how could I have thrown it all away like that? My career has been years in the making. Years. And now it all feels such a waste of my life. It feels like my career choice was irrelevant. Do you know how many hours of TV I watched as a kid when I was too ill to do much else? Do you know how many advertisements were included in that TV-watching? All that time on my hands, thinking how I’d make the advertisements better. Thinking how I could help businesses sell their product. And now, I have nothing to show for it at all. Why did I allow Tim to get to me? Confuse me about Anya? Because we were good. We had plans. She got me. She understood me.’

Ashleigh stores the remaining soup in the fridge and then turns and leans against the counter looking lost in thought. Then, she says, ‘I thought you said that maybe she didn’t? That maybe she bolted because she was worried about your health? That maybe she was using all this as the perfect excuse.’

‘I was probably wrong about that. We’ve been together years. We – why are you looking at me like I’m some poor deluded fool?’

‘No, well, it’s just … did she rush out after you when you gave her back the watch? Has she called you? Checked in with you?’

But then I haven’t called either.

I haven’t called because … the truth solidifies quietly inside of me.

It was over, wasn’t it?

‘Hey,’ Ashleigh says. ‘You want to get out of here for a while? Get ice cream, then come back and download an appropriately-wallowing-type tearjerker romcom.’

‘I’m good, thanks.’

‘Come on. It’s either me, the ice cream and movie wallowing or…’

‘Or?’

‘Or I’ll suggest to Abigail Montford that you’d like a violin recital to cheer you up.’

‘Sadist.’

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A FEATHER FOR YOUR THOUGHTS

Ashleigh

Outside the air is already warmer, and with the traffic mostly stationary, it’s verging on feeling sultry. The cherry blossom has long since pooled into soft pink puddles at the base of its trunks, forming pretty doughnuts.

It’ll be June before I know it.

June!

Jasmine’s wedding.

Since asking Zach to go with me I haven’t really thought about it but I guess I should figure out how it’s going to feel seeing the whole of Sarah’s family without Sarah being there.

But not now. Now is about George. I’m impressed it didn’t take too much wrangling to get him outside. I like he’s always ready to try to make the best of a situation. Probably comes from spending all that time not being able to do anything about being ill.

As we walk and talk, the sights, sounds, smells are going to help keep him in the present.

And making sure he’s okay will help keep me present.

‘Careful,’ George cautions as I stumble.

Yes. Careful, I repeat to myself as I steer us onto Montague Street. I’m not the poster girl for “saving” people.

‘Why do I get the feeling the lure of ice cream was merely a ploy to get me outside?’ George asks, his tone absent of rebuke as we walk further down the street.

‘Oh, we’re getting ice cream,’ I promise, smiling up at him. ‘In a while.’

We walk a bit further and I try to figure out if people are staring at us because we look ill-matched or if it’s because I’m blinding them in my fluorescent lab coat. To gather more intel, I take off the white tabard and tuck it around the handle of my tote.

‘Before I fell asleep the other night,’ George remarks, ‘you mentioned you hadn’t been working at Sparkle long. How did you get the job?’

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