She looked up when he walked in and something in her expression shifted like she’d been rehearsing something and it just decided to throw out the script. He sat down across from her. I wanted to apologize, she said, and to explain. You don’t owe me an explanation. No, but I owe you an apology. She met his eyes. I put you in an uncomfortable position last night. You had to intervene on my behalf, escort me home, wait to make sure I was safe, and none of that was your responsibility.
I didn’t see it as a burden. That makes it worse, actually. She gave a short, wry, almost smile. People who do kind things without expecting anything in return are much harder to dismiss. Ryan looked at her carefully. Is that what you were planning to do? Dismiss it? I was going to pretend it hadn’t happened, she admitted. That’s what I usually do. Someone sees something I didn’t mean for them to see and I just recalibrate, move on, control the narrative.
He was quiet, letting her continue. But you saw me last night and you didn’t use it. You didn’t make it weird. You didn’t make me feel stupid. She paused. You just made sure I was safe and then left like that was normal, like I deserved that. Something in her voice cracked very slightly on the last four words. Not enough to break, but enough for him to hear. You do deserve that, he said. She looked down at her mug.
My ex-husband used to say I didn’t know how to be vulnerable, that I was too controlled, too professional, that I’d built so many walls nobody could reach me. A pause. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Being self-sufficient isn’t a character flaw. It becomes one when it’s the only thing you know how to be. She looked up. I don’t actually drink much. Last night I had a hard call with a client who’s pulling a contract we’ve spent 8 months building.
I was trying to shake it off. I misjudged. That’s allowed. Not for me, she said it matter-of-factly, not with self-pity. I’m the CEO. I set the standard. I can’t afford to misjudge. You’re also a person, Ryan said. Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive. She studied him for a long moment. You have a daughter. Lily, she’s 5. You raising her alone? 3 years now. He kept his voice even. Her mom left. It was complicated, but Lily is the best thing I’ve ever done, so he shrugged.
