Page 80 of Never the Best

As soon as I stepped in, Rachel, Nina’s efficient EA who managed the front desk, greeted me with a warm, “Welcome back,” before seamlessly picking up the ringing phone and answering with her usual curt but cheerful, “Savannah Lace, how may I help you?” It hit me then—everything here was the same. Nothing had changed.

ButIhad.

Even after everything, I realized I was almost back to where I had been mentally before the ‘incident,’ as I’d started to call it.Nervous breakdownsounded far too severe, even though my therapist assured me that’s exactly what it was.

Coming back to Savannah, seeing Rhett again, and dealing with my family—it had all swirled together into a tight, overwhelming stress ball inside me. And when Josie did what she did, it was like the last thread snapped, and I imploded.

As I walked to my office, the buzz of keyboards, the quiet hum of voices in hushed conversations, and the occasional ring of a phone were familiar, and normalized my presence among them. The walls were adorned with the same framed photographs of iconic Savannah Lace designs, their elegant patterns a testament to the company’s history. Even the faint scent of coffee and delicious food that Mira Bodine created in the cafeteria made me feel like I was home, even if the thought of food and drink made me just a tad queasy.

I gripped the strap of my bag tighter, my heels clicking against the polished floor as I made my way to my desk. My pulse quickened with every step, the knot in my stomach twisting tighter. I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was watching me, even though most of my coworkers seemed to be too busy with their screens or conversations to notice me at all.

They know, the voice in my head whispered.They all know.

For years, I’d worked so hard to keep the most vulnerable parts of myself hidden. But now, my struggles weren’t private anymore. The walls I’d built had come crashing down, and now everyone in this building had a front-row seat to my shame. Hell, Luna and Aurora had to hold me while I laid in a fetal position next to a freaking smelly dumpster in an alley behind The Peacock Lounge.

I forced myself to keep walking, trying to ignore the heat rising to my face.

Just keep moving, Pearl. Don’t stop. Don’t give them a reason to stare.That used to be my mantra when I was growing up in Savannah. That was how I used to ignore thefat, nerd, dull,and after Rhett,slutcomments.

When I reached my desk, I sat down quickly, setting my bag on the floor, and pulling my laptop open as if burying myself in work might make me invisible. I braced myself for the whispers, the glances, the awkward condolences.

But they didn’t come.

“Morning, Pearl!” Stephanie, a colleague, called cheerfully as she passed by, balancing a stack of mail in her arms. “Welcome back.”

“Morning,” I replied warily. “And thank you.”

A few minutes later, Alex from payroll stopped by to drop some documents on my desk.

“Thank God, you’re back. Can you take a look at these and make sure they’re ready for Layla’s John Hancock?”

This was standard operating procedure for Alex when it came to contracts. He wanted me to go through them because I was known to be detail-oriented. He didn’t linger,didn’t give me a pitying look, didn’t ask how I was doing. Instead, he added, “And I’ll owe you one more drink.”

I arched an eyebrow, falling into my usual pattern with Alex.

He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair and looked sheepish. “At this point, I think I owe you a couple of bottles of…drinks.”

I grinned. “As long as someone is keeping tabs.”

Alex chuckled and was on his way.

As the hours ticked by, I noticed that no one was treating me any differently. When I walked by, there were no sidelong glances, no hushed tones, and no awkward pauses in conversation.

It was like…nothing had happened.

I exhaled slowly, the tension in my chest easing just a little. Maybe I’d underestimated these people. Or perhaps they were doing what good coworkers do—giving me space to be me. Either way, I appreciated it.

I got a text message from Rhett around noon.

Rhett:Did you have lunch?

Me:I had an apple.

Okay, so it was a couple of slices, but it was an apple.

Rhett:Are you hydrating?

I scowled because I felt like an errant child, but it was lovely to be taken care of, and for someone to ask if I was okay. I took a photo of the half-empty bottle of water next to my keyboard and sent it to him.

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