Page 61 of Parallel

I tell him, wondering if his girlfriend isn’t there or if he’s just been slightly more open with her than I’ve been with Jeff about all this. Somehow, I doubt hehas.

We watch, mostly in silence, aside from my occasional pleas for spoilers. “Is his wife going to be okay?” Iwhisper.

His laughter is low. I can almost feel it against my ear, can almost feel his warmth against my side, smell his chlorine and shampoo. “I can’t tell youthat.”

“Just tell meif—”

He cuts me off. “Watch the movie,baby.”

It’s a quiet thrill, that word. I wonder if he realizes he saidit.

At the movie’s end, I am weeping. Not pretty crying, but hysterical sobbing. “I’m so glad you can’t see me,” I say with some combination of laugh and sob. “I look like an idiot rightnow.”

“No, you don’t,” he says quietly, certainty in his voice. “Did you likeit?”

I swallow. I am full and heartbroken at the same time. “It was the most gorgeous movie I’ve ever seen. But do you think he got home? I guess we’re not supposed to know.” My voice breaks. I can’t believe I’m crying this hard over a movie. “I think he gothome.”

“I think he did too,” Nick says. We sit in silence for a moment, and I let myself picture an entire life like this, one in which all the beautiful and painful things in the world are shared with someone else, someone who feels them and sees them like I do. My eyes squeeze tight. I wish I could have that. I wish he wasmine.

29

QUINN

The next morning, Dee barks at me from her office and I walk to her slowly, teeth grinding. I’m never in the mood for her bullshit, but that is especially true today with so many other things stressing me out. I still have not exchanged a single word with Jeff since our fight lastnight.

Dee regards me with even more hatred than normal when I walk in her door, but I expected it. Today when I got ready I didn’t downplay anything. I put on my favorite pale gray sheath, red strappy heels, careful makeup. I knew I risked a day of her ire by coming in pink-cheeked and shiny. It wasfreeingthat I no longer had to care. It’s freeing even now. I can’t believe I’ve spent so many years at this job I hate, cowering as if the fate of the world rested on remaininghere.

I haven’t decided when I will quit—it would make sense to wait until just before school starts, especially since Jeff could lose his job any second now—but I expect it’ll be the moment she pushes me too far. Which could be anytime, really. Maybetoday.

She has a litany of complaints, of course. She hates the layout, hates the cover, she even hates the design elements she herself insisted on. Funnily enough, it bothers me less than it normally would, because at last there’s a finish line, a light at the end of the tunnel. Her time to use me as her whipping boy is running outquickly.

I’m at my desk making yet another set of unnecessary changes when Trevor pulls up a chair besideme.

“You look gorgeous today,” he says. “And way toohappy.”

I grin at him. “The times they are a-changin’.”

“And now you’re quoting Bob Dylan,” he says. “So, you’re either morphing into a seventy-year-old or you finally gotlaid.”

My phone chimes. Jeff’s name flashes across the screen and my smile fades. He was in bed beside me when I woke this morning. I took in his face, dredging up every good memory I had of us in order to feel the way I’m supposed to feel—but it didn’t work. “No one’s getting laid, I assure you. But I’m leaving early today, which is almost asgood.”

“To see Dr. Hottie?” he askseagerly.

I swallow. “We’re meeting with another doctor but he’ll be there, Ithink.”

“Jeff and Nick in the same room?” he asks, eyes lighting up. “Can I come today? I’ll be your plus one. There’s bound to be punchesthrown.”

I laugh begrudgingly. “I’m not sure you bring a plus one to a doctor’s appointment. And there will be no fight. I plan to tell Jeff he has to becivil.”

Trevor grins. “From what I saw the other day, I doubt it’sJeffyou need to worryabout.”

* * *

I handTrevor the proofs for Dee on my way to lunch. When I return, Dee is waiting in reception, clicking those nails of hers on the desk in a failed attempt at self-control.

“This is entirely wrong,” she says, handing me the pages I gave Trevorearlier.

My teeth scrape against each other. “That’s exactly what you askedfor.”

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