Chapter 9
Bryson
“Butwithoutfurtherdelay, I’m pleased to announce our senior associate team leaders – Bryson and Skylar.”
Hands started patting my back while excited voices yelled congratulations at me.
This was everything I had worked towards the past year. All those long hours, extra training, and putting my hand up to take on more responsibilities had finally paid off.
So why did I feel so terrible?
Without realizing what I was doing, I found my eyes locked with Harlow’s. She gave me a small smile, clapping politely, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Instead all I found staring back at me was regret and hurt. But I didn’t think it was aimed at me, it was the fact that despite ticking all my goal boxes to get here to this very moment, there was one box that remained blank.
Do it with Harlow.
Harlow broke our eye contact, turning to face Skylar. I found myself staring at Harlow, wondering what was going through her mind right now.
“Congrats, Bry!”
I sucked in a breath as Skylar suddenly pulled me in for a hug. Her fingers and arms tightened on me, almost unprofessionally and I suspected this was more than just your usual celebratory hug. I didn’t want to embarrass her so I hugged her back, muttering a quiet congratulations for her promotion too.
Jack tapped on the desk, motioning for us to quieten down so he could discuss the team lists. When the projector lit up the screen, I ran my eyes quickly down my list, frowning when I didn’t see Harlow’s name.
Business wise, it would make perfect sense to have her in my team. She was a legend at reconciliations and balancing numbers – even better than me. I quickly searched Skylar’s list and gaped at Harlow’s name.
This was just asking for trouble. They were setting her up for failure.
Jack directed us to break into our teams and I stood, waving my hand around for my colleagues to come join me in the next conference room. I stood at the doorway, smiling at the team as they walked out happily, muttering how they couldn’t wait to work with me. When the last member of my list vanished through the doorway, I turned to leave, throwing one last look at Harlow as she sat looking at Skylar. Her face was blank as she waited expectantly for her team leader to start going over plans and ideas.
There was something about her blank expression that just worried me. Something about the lost look in her green eyes that unsettled me to no end.
It cannot be humanly possible to be this exhausted.
Countless meetings, the responsibility of taking on so many people, listening to their concerns... trying to sort everyone’s problems out. It was a tough gig to get used to.
I had just enough time to duck out to the lunch cart on the sidewalk, grab a sandwich and if my calculations are correct, I’ll have 3 and a half minutes to eat the bloody thing before I get interrupted.
The elevator was taking it’s sweet time. But I didn’t mind. It was nice just stopping for a second. I closed my eyes, appreciating the moment.
Footsteps reached my ears and I turned to look at my guest, surprised to see it was Harlow.
“Hey Harlow. Are you excited for the weekend?” I asked, happy to see a familiar face that won’t tell me about their cousin’s wedding or that work makes them want to lock themselves in the office bathroom.
“No,” she muttered. Her green eyes were looking up, watching the screen. I could make out what appeared to be exhaustion. I recognized it well. I wondered if it was work pushing her. I wasn’t a stranger to the office politics or pranks – associates dumping work on her or the higher ups wanting her out of the company. But she refused to give up, never giving them a reason to see her as weak.
I don’t know how she did it. She was a fighter, that’s for sure.
The usual guilt tugged inside. It was hard to believe the evidence or what the police said, when I knew Harlow.
I know her.
Part of me hated that I was there that night. Maybe I could have stopped it. Or maybe if I had stayed with her, things would have been different. Now I don’t know what to believe.
I’m told to hate her. That she is trouble and a disgrace.
But my old feelings still linger. And there’s something strange about the events of that night that I can’t brush aside.
“Didn’t you get to eat your lunch?”
I blinked, coming out of my thoughts, as I stare at the sandwich in my hand. The plain egg and mayonnaise triangle looked less appealing than it should to my empty stomach.
“No, unfortunately. Been caught up in boring meetings and helping team members.”
She gave her sympathies and I shook my head, following her into the elevator.
I stared at her, watching her press our floor number and that strange nagging feeling returned.
This wasn’t the girl I knew. The Harlow I know is vibrant, bubbly, full of life. She loved talking about natural disasters and her favorite movies. Or how when I used to watch her order her coffee, she would tap her right leg impatiently as the machine whirled.
“I don’t care about that anymore.”
Her comment had me taken aback. It was all she could talk about months ago. It was her dream, her passion.
“What do you care about then?” I curiously asked, almost afraid of her answer.
She’s dimming. But I don’t blame her. I’ve watched how everyone has treated her for the past nearly 7 months. It’s enough to exhaust anyone.
“I care about you.”
But who do you believe?
The unshakable evidence.
Or the only girl to ever challenge me in every universal way?