The Fastest Way to Fall(20)

I wanted to tell her I didn’t think about her anymore, that I didn’t call her back because I was too busy living the life she didn’t want to share with me, to hit her somewhere it would hurt. Instead, I kept my voice steady. “You’re hiring inexperienced coaches. That’s a bad idea, Kels.”

She shook her head, a tight smile crossing her lips. It wasn’t welcoming or kind; it was her I’m-disappointed-in-you expression. “I didn’t come here to ask your advice, Wes. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Well, we’re talking, and I’m telling you it’s not safe.”

“I realize you have a degree in this, but the basics of teaching people to exercise and eat right aren’t that complicated. We have a good training program.”

She said “degree” as if it wasn’t real. As if the five years of biology, anatomy, chemistry, nutrition, biomechanics, and exercise physiology I’d taken were just glorified dodgeball courses.

“It’s more than that. There’s nuance, and people can get hurt.”

The waitress returned with our food, and we stared at each other in silence.

“Noted.” Kelsey shook out her napkin. “While we’re here, I was hoping we could let bygones be bygones. We’re competitors, but we don’t have to be enemies. I’d like us to reconnect, to be civil. I—” She paused, drinking water as if the words were stuck in her throat. “I miss you, Wes.”

I stared at her without responding.

Kelsey brushed my hand, and the flash of vulnerability fell from her face when I jerked my arm back at the touch.

“Okay.” I took a long drink of water. “You’re not interested in what I think about your company and you’ve already made your move. It’s been years. What do you want, Kelsey? Why are we here?”

She inhaled as if steeling herself. “I want to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“For ending things the way I did. It was . . . I’ve felt bad about that for a long time.”

I’d taken her to Margo’s for dinner. Kelsey hated fanfare and big gestures, so I planned to ask her to marry me in our place—our corner of the world—over chocolate milkshakes, her favorite. I’d practiced everything I would say a hundred times, making sure she knew that our family would have everything we’d both grown up without—affection, security, and consistency. I was certain she would say yes, that she’d stay by my side. The tiny diamond ring was the most expensive item I’d ever purchased, and I’d been saving for a year. But when I reached down to make sure the box was still in my pocket and opened my mouth to say “Let’s splurge on milkshakes,” she spoke instead.

“Wes, I got an offer to work with another app. They have the capital and the investors all lined up, and they want me to lead it. Can you believe it? I’m going to accept the offer.” She arranged her water glass so it touched the top of her knife, eyes not leaving mine. “And I think it’s best if we end things, too.”

Her voice had been so steady, so cool, I was waiting for a punch line. When none came, my hand stilled, fingers around the box. “What? Why?”

“With the two businesses, it would be too complicated, and it’s better if I’m alone. Sometimes it feels like I’m all you have, and that’s too much pressure, Wes. Plus, this is a huge opportunity for me, and I won’t have the time to—”

“We can figure it out, Kels. I don’t understand.” I hated that my voice sounded pleading and small. “We’ve been together for six years. Don’t . . . don’t do this.”

She shook her head. “I can’t be distracted with someone else’s needs. I’m sorry, but you understand, right? It’s not personal . . . it’s just business.”

My voice was deeper than I’d intended when I responded to her apology, the old hurt from earlier slamming into my chest. “It was a long time ago.”

“Have you forgiven me?”

“I don’t think about you anymore, Kels.” Shortly after we broke up, I found out she had started dating some real estate developer. Turned out it wasn’t about being alone; it was about not being with me, and it bugged me that that still stung.

She narrowed her gaze. “You’re lying, but I’d like you to be in my life again. I . . .” She glanced up at the ceiling like she wasn’t sure how to say what she’d come here to. “Can you forgive me?”

I rested my hand over my pocket, remembering the box’s corners cutting into my palm. The memory of the despair and utter disbelief that had raged in me that night felt fresh, but for a moment, her makeup and new hair color fell away, and I saw Kelsey, sitting in our diner, vulnerable. I didn’t want to admit, even to myself, how hearing her words made me feel. To admit how much I wanted them to mean more. Unbidden, my thoughts turned to my client B and what advice she’d give me in this situation. “Yeah, sure.”





15





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A year ago, I thought I had rhythm. I thought I could hold my own on the dance floor. Friends, let me tell you, I had no idea what I was getting into. The women in my hip-hop dance class schooled me. Did I mention I showed up for the 60+ class by accident? They welcomed me anyway, and took pity on me when I messed up the steps, lost the beat, and dropped an f-bomb when I fell on my butt. More than taking pity on me, they cheered me on and invited me to come back. Who is helping you stick to your goals? #SquadGoals #BestLife