Page 83 of The ABCs of You & Me

“Wait, what?” Davis sputters, mid-sip.

Yas smiles. “We don’t waste time. There’s no guarantee of tomorrow for Miguel. Even after a successful transplant, things could go downhill quickly. I wanted to see his reaction now.”

“I like that,” Foster says. “It should be about what works for you and not about superstitions.”

When our meals come, Foster immediately offers me a bite. Gregory did that in the beginning too. But he wouldn’t have asked for the hot sauce on the side. He would have goaded me into trying it and then smirked as I battled the unpleasant burn in my mouth, chastising me for something I had no control over. Foster, on the other hand, dips each forkful into the hot sauce. He doesn’t have to say that he’s welcoming me to help myself; it’s as clear as day in everything he does.

After I finish my potatoes, he slides over his side plate still stacked high with the seasoned crispy delights, while chatting with Yasmine about Miguel’s transplant. It’s the fact he’s very much engaged with my friend while also aware of me that has me rising and practically running to the washroom. Yet again.

Standing over the sink, holding onto the sides, I take deep stuttering breaths. Foster’s goodness. His attentiveness. The way he touches me and listens to me shines a light on what my life had been like for so many years. It illuminates all the deep cracks of toxic behavior I either couldn’t see or refused to acknowledge.

The door opens, and I look up to see Maya.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” I force a smile, and I’m met with a skeptical look.

“There’s no rush.” She shrugs, joining me at the sink and catching my gaze in the mirror. “He’s special,” she says.

“I know.”

“Is that why you’re hiding in the bathroom? Because you know he’s special?”

I shake my head, my shoulders dropping. “I’m hiding in the bathroom because it hit me how fucked up my relationship with Gregory really was.”

“Just realizing it, eh? You spent a lot of time in denial, my friend.”

“I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to, I don’t know, fail.”

Maya pulls me into her arms without a word and squeezes me tightly. “Staying in a relationship that is not good for you isn’t succeeding, my love. Leaving it was not a fail.”

“But I didn’t leave it.” I pull back as tears finally break through. “He did. I didn’t have a choice. I would have stayed.”

“You don’t know that,” she insists, rubbing her hands up and down my upper arms. “You would have still met Foster.”

I shake my head slowly. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

No, because I never would have applied for that job if I’d still been with Gregory. I’m doing what I always wanted to do now, but for years he’d convinced me that my calling was to be the head of some agency or another. He wanted us both to be the head of something. Equals, he’d said countless times. But when I look back, I’m not so sure he actually realized what the word meant.

“Sophie?”

“My path changed when he kicked me out, that’s all.” I wash my hands, if only to do something with them. “I don’t want Foster to worry. Let’s go back.” I dry my hands and head for the door, only to have Maya’s hand wrap around my arm and pull me back.

“Promise me one thing.”

“Maybe.”

“Be honest with yourself when it comes to whatever this thing is with him.”

“I am.”

Her expression screams bullshit. “You’re not, and we both know it. You’re not there yet, not ready to be.”

We stand there, staring at each other until her hand drops, a silent understanding reached before we head back to our table. I know exactly what I want. But I also need to respect what it is I need.

The minute we come into view of the table I sense Foster’s eyes on me, concern etched across his handsome face.

I am fucked.

---