Page 65 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

Yeah, I already own a pantsuit. But it doesn’t hug my hips and bust like this one. And it’s black and tired-looking, like a rejected hand-me-down from Valentina or something.

And I definitely don’t have kitten heels.

“What do you think?” the store clerk asks, leaning in through the open door. “It really brings out your eyes, don’t you think?”

I want to say that I usually don’t come to the mall because all the clerks here are highly skilled at telling their customers whatever they want to hear. Because this time, I agree.

“Totally,” I murmur, smoothing the pockets of the high-waisted jacket and turning up one of my heels to see its modest stiletto.

Sure, I already own a pantsuit, but not a pantsuit like this, nor the shoes to go with it. Not a pantsuit that makes me feel like equal parts Amazon and sex goddess.

“I’ll take it,” I declare, then check my watch. It’s getting close to meeting time. “I’ll wear it out, if that’s okay.”

The clerk nods, not at all phased. This must happen more than I expect; a woman comes searching for an outfit that will make her feel like a badass, then runs short on time and decides to wear it right out of the store.

I feel like a badass.

I feel ready to take on those investors.

Hell, I feel ready to take on the world.

And you know what? Fuck Laurent for leaving me in the lurch like this. A few days ago, I would have been devastated by his rejection. But now something has shifted in me and I’m energized by it.

I guess that even though Laurent turned out to be a trash person, there’s some truth in his words that I’ve taken to heart. Namely, that maybe it’s not me who should court the investors, but the other way around.

And yeah, I’m angry that Laurent made love to me and then left without a word. But more than that, I’m determined to prove to myself that I’m stronger than any man’s mistake.

Laurent would be lucky to have me. I’m smart. I’m weird, sure, but funny. And I’m the brain behind one of the world’s most popular app.

He missed out.

And if these investors don’t play their cards right, they’ll miss out too. But unlike with Laurent, it’ll be my decision, not theirs.

I turn on the balls of my feet so I can examine how good this pantsuit makes my round ass look. And to think that I thought a woman with my ample curves couldn’t pull off a chic, fitted look.

There are so many things that I’m unlearning, and I have Laurent to thank for it.

“Okay,” I say to the clerk, decided. “Then let’s get going.”

I’ve got things to do.

Laurent

Dad and I ease Mom into her bed. She’s already half asleep when I pull the covers up over her, tucking her like she used to do for me when I was a child.

In the moments it takes me and Dad to steal from the darkened room, her breathing lengthens. I’m pretty sure she’s in dreamland by the time the door closes with a soft click.

Dad claps me on the shoulder, but heavily, as he turns toward the living room. I follow him, needing to unpack the morning.

“More dehydration, huh?” I say as he settles on the couch. I’m too keyed up to sit. I pace the length of the room.

“Yeah.”

“And now we’ve got to keep a closer eye on her nutrition.” I never would have guessed that anemia could be a side-effect of cancer and its treatment. Today I learned differently.

When the results of all Mom’s tests were back, the doctor said she was dehydrated again. And anemic. And had low blood sugar due to the fact that her appetite has been low.

All conditions that, in any healthy person, wouldn’t be that big of a deal.

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