I finished my makeup and gave my bangs a little extra TLC. I’d pulled the rest of my long hair into a bun at the nape of my neck, hoping to look professional for my first day on the Black Soul project. I’d also gone with the exact outfit I’d described to Ezra in my email last night.
My plum pencil skirt hit just below my knees and molded to my body over thighs and a butt that still burned. I’d paired it with a gray long-sleeve, ruffled blouse and matching gray pumps. And because it was winter and cold outside, I’d even worn pantyhose. The kind with the seam running up the back of the leg because, obviously, I needed extra incentive to get myself into pantyhose.
I added some jewelry, and checked the lines of my tucked in shirt making sure the frills lay nicely and hadn’t been waywardly placed. Staring at myself in the locker room mirror under terrible lighting and with not enough sleep, I wondered what was missing. Because something wasn’t totally right.
My makeup was on point, and my style trendy enough to get by. My hair was tamed today, and my nails had been recently manicured. I looked how I was supposed to look for the job I was supposed to have.
Sure, there were things that I would change about myself if I could. I’d always thought my nose was too upturned and my eyes too big beneath my small forehead—which was why I did the whole bang thing. I definitely wouldn’t have complained about bigger boobs or hips that had some flare. There was a scar on my collarbone that I liked to keep hidden. It was from when Vera and I were kids and Vann thought he was a ninja. Vann still apologized for the throwing star incident to this day.
Anyway, there were definitely things about me that I would change. But this missing something was hard to pinpoint. It didn’t feel physical to me. It was deeper than that. Trickier than that.
My chest ached as I examined myself and nibbled on my bottom lip, hoping to figure out why I couldn’t just be happy with where my life was. Why couldn’t I just be happy for my best friend without having this existential crisis in which I questioned every single life choice I’d ever made?
I looked over at Vera where she stood leaning against the wall. Her free hand tugged on her wild hair that was still drying, and she smiled into the phone with googly eyes and imaginary hearts floating around her head. She had never been so in love. She had never been this happy before.
And I was happy for her. I was. But her happiness only spotlighted my unhappiness. Her bliss only shed light on my misery. Her joy revealed my lack of. Her contentment exaggerated my restlessness.
I couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t really about Killian or her engagement and not-so-distant wedding. It wasn’t about Vera finding her soul mate, true love, and Disney-esque fairy tale.
Honestly, I had never really been all that into the happily ever after. Even as a little girl, when I pictured being a grown-up, it was the job I dreamed of, not the man. It was the career, not the house in the suburbs with two-point-five kids and a matching poodle that I wished for. Plus, there was no one in my immediate circle that I would even consider dating.
Except maybe Chris Pratt. Obviously, I considered the entire cast of Guardians of the Galaxy in my immediate circle.
So why the gaping hole in my chest where there should be nothing but spastic enthusiasm for my best friend?
She hung up the phone and did a little dance of glee. “He loves it!” she squealed. “He’s calling our business manager now.”
“Business manager? You’re so fancy I can’t even handle it.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not even close. But this guy is a lifesaver. He handles the million phone calls and deals with the contractors when they’re idiots. He is basically doing all the jobs I don’t want to do.”
“How did you find him?”
“Ezra,” she replied casually. Like it was easy to say his name, and talk about him, and throw him into conversations. Like he wasn’t the most successful person we both knew. “He has all the connections.”
“I still can’t believe he’s so cool with Killian opening a restaurant. You’re going to be his competition now. Isn’t he at least mildly pissed?”
She shook her head. “Not even a little bit. But I also don’t think he looks at us like competition. Ezra is a lot like Killian in that they’re hard to get to know, but once they trust you, their loyalty is pretty much unbreakable. Ezra is really happy for Killian.”
I made a humming noise in lieu of a verbal response.
“You should give him another chance, Molls,” Vera suggested. “He’s not that bad when you get to know him.”
Grabbing my toiletries from around me, I threw them into my makeup case and walked over to my gym bag. The locker room had started to fill up with the before-work crowd, and it was getting steamy and uncomfortably warm.
“I’m sure he is,” I agreed with her. “He’s all rainbows, sunshine, and no judgment.”
Vera snickered. “No, he’s none of those things. But he somehow grows on you anyway.”
My stomach growled loudly and I took the opportunity to change the subject. “I’m starving, Vere. Feed me.”
She grabbed her gym bag and made a sour face. “I would like to feed you. Real food. What we’re about to do is basically defiling the food industry. I just want you to be aware of that.”
I narrowed my eyes in thought. “I think I’m going to get a breakfast burrito too. I deserve it after what you put me through.”
“Blasphemy!”
Grinning at her, I held the locker room door open. “You only have yourself to blame.”
She batted her eyelashes at me on her way out. “Should we try Crossfit next time? Whole30? Your mom’s old Cindy Crawford tapes?”
We laughed all the way to our cars. And then all the way through our short breakfast. And then when we said goodbye in the parking lot to go our separate ways.
The crazy thing was, I would try any stupid workout or diet or doomsday cult Vera came up with because I loved her too much to tell her no. And because I’d hated it when she lived in Charlotte. And I’d really hated it when she’d been with Derrek.
Vera had been through hell before she came back to Durham a year ago. Whatever emotional turmoil I was going through now couldn’t compare to what my best friend had faced. Honestly, the good outweighed the bad anyway. My joyful feelings for my friend were so much larger than my own, selfish, pity-party ones. My pride in who she’d become and how hard she’d worked to get where she was now would always outshine my personal feelings of self-doubt and insecurity.
Because she was closer to me than any other human. Because we’d been through good times and bad times, and really good times, and really, really bad times, and that’s what friends did. We put each other first. We stepped outside of ourselves and our issues to cheer each other on and root for each other’s happiness.
Vera had found her soulmate and that gave me hope. Maybe I didn’t have an exact idea of what my perfect ending looked like, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t find it.