“Who does?” Bianca asks, even though she knows the answer.
“Xavier.”
“I will absolutely not be telling him that.”
“So youdohave feelings for him,” Miranda says, obviously not missing the most pertinent piece of information she just revealed.
“I don’t, but I . . . could . . . I guess . . . if I let myself, which I haven’t, because he’s leaving. The last time I even attempted long distance was a dismal failure. What would even be the point?”
“That boy you left in New York? Bianca, please. Xavier’s not here to defend himself against this comparison to a finance bro who didn’t listen to you when you told him NFTs were a scam.”
“You’rehilarious.”
“Have you thought that you should try because it might make you happy?”
“Iamhappy.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, and honestly, you’re just as bad as the rest of them, treating me like it’s not possible for me to be happy on my own. I love my life. This is what I’ve dreamed about since I was a little girl and everyone acting like that doesn’t matter really fucking sucks.”
“Oh, sweetie, no, that’s not what I mean.”
“Well, it’s what it sounds like. You, my parents, my sister, all my friends. My life isn’t missing anything because I’m single.”
And even with the feelings that have been creeping up on her the last few days, saying that feels as true as it ever has. She’s never really needed anyone to feel content, never even especially wanted someone to be with, not at the cost of everything else she wants, and it completely sucks that no one seems to get that.
Being in love, having someone love her would be great, but she doesn’t need that to be happy.
“I want you to listen to me, Bianca. You are entirely correct and don’t let any of the rest of us bully you.”
And just that little bit of understanding from her mentor is enough for something inside of her to break just a little bit.
“If he wasn’t leaving, though . . .”
Because despite everything, if he wasn’t leaving, she knows they’d be having a very different conversation right now.
“But he is and it’s okay to protect yourself from that. It’s okay.”
Bianca had imagined that if she was sitting in this office today crying her eyes out, it would be because she fucked up her interview and there were months of uncertainty and unemployment looming ahead of her with no end in sight.
Instead she’s crying over a boy. Well, not over a boy exactly, but . . . close enough.
And that feels unacceptable.
She’s never allowed herself to do that before and she’s not going to start now.
Taking the tissues Miranda offers her from the box on her desk, she wipes at her eyes, thankful she didn’t bother with makeup before leaving the house, and then softly blows her nose.
“Feel better?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I feel . . . less burdened, maybe?”
“I’ll take it. Now, get yourself together or it’ll be all over the department that you came out of my office with puffy eyes and a red nose.”
“Maybe I was crying from happiness. I successfully defended my dissertation and, most importantly, I’m getting married, remember?”
Miranda snorts. “You might just pull this off. Not that I’m agreeing it’s a good idea.”
