“Yeah. It was a shitty day. She waited up and she was—” His chest was so tight he couldn’t get the words out.
“Is she unhappy?”
“I only saw it in her last night, but maybe it’s been there for a while. If she wants to leave me what do I do?”
“You love her.”
“More than I know how to feel. My heart is ten times its regular size because of her.”
“That’s it then.”
“What?”
“That’s why you’re different. Sarina said so. I was too angry with you still to believe it.”
He wasn’t different. They all kept saying it. He simply didn’t see it. “I’m trying to be less of an asshole.” He’d made up a set of rules. No interrupting people when they spoke, no calling them names, no implying they’re halfwits, no physical intimidation, no taking his frustration out on the furniture, no yelling, no sulking, no taking over other people’s work, no being bad-tempered for no clear reason.
He’d broken every single rule, daily, sequentially, serially. He rubbed the back of his neck. It was exhausting. He’d thought Owen was a weaker leader but Owen laughed at his list. There wasn’t a thing on it that Owen would ever have done. The reason doors were off hinges was because Reid was known to slam them. Owen wasn’t the one who broke their coffee machine or kicked the photocopier. Owen didn’t have to apologize and no one was confused about whether his excitement was a precursor to a flame out.
“It’s working, Reid.”
“Not if I’ve lost her.” He slumped in his chair and the back creaked. There was a piece of tape holding the lever that adjusted it because he’d broken it off instead off yelling when Lashaya told him they had a problem with the billing system that he’d warned accounts about dozens of times.
“I made her compete with all this. When we met, I was out. I had time. Now I have the little spaces between the next critical thing to do. I made her unhappy because I don’t know how to separate myself from here.”
He knew what he had to do. To keep Zarley, he had to quit Plus.
“Stop thinking like that.” Dev put two fingers to his temple then pointed them at Reid. “Why would she want you to choose?”
“She’s worth it.”
“I’m assuming she thinks the same about you.”
Reid covered his face with his hands. “This is why I never did relationships.”
“No it’s not.” Dev groaned. “You didn’t do relationships because you were shit scared of women.”
“Not denying it. I’m not made for emotional turmoil and all the mess people make with, well, emotions.” Dev eye-rolled. “I failed with Zarley.”
“You also have the biggest goddamn ego. And you haven’t stopped to think this is about her, not you.”
“About her.” Thought stopped his brain; the world went still. “Still means I failed.
“You’ve got better at handling that lately.”
No single thing he’d ever fucked up would be as bad as losing Zarley. “She’s my personal ziggurat. If I lose her . . .”
“So don’t.”
“Are you going to tell me how to achieve this piece of impossible?”
“Nope. You’re the one does the pieces of impossible around here.”
“Not this kind of—shit, Dev. Are we at least okay again?”
“We will be if you keep her.”
He pushed back into his chair, but forgot it was broken. It didn’t ratchet back, just made him bounce forward again. “Our friendship is contingent on me keeping Zarley?”