blue eyes

Chapter 8

Zoe:

Well, that was a mess, Fisher. Zoe slumped back against the wall of the elevator. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the stress of the week, but she had not handled Brandon's news well. So much for keeping a poker face. I doubt he'll show next week.

The elevator doors slid open and Zoe made a beeline for the bathroom. She felt all over the place emotionally and she needed to calm herself down before she found Sam. She went into one of the stalls and locked the door. She didn't have to pee, so she just stood there, facing the door, so her feet would look normal if someone happened to come in and look under the stalls, and took some quiet, deep breaths.

Brandon getting an easy out doesn't have any impact on how hard you've worked to be here, Zoe told herself. You don't know his story. Maybe he really needed this. Friends celebrate each other. You have to do better.

Zoe took a few more deep breaths, then straightened her posture, and flushed the toilet to cover for the fact that she hadn't actually been using the bathroom. She walked out and washed her hands, taking a chance to look in the mirror. Zoe frowned. She could just barely see where the imprint of her keyboard had been. Also, it was a good thing that she didn't wear any foundation today, or she would have wiped it all off. The one pimple on her chin that she'd carefully covered with concealer had poked itself back out to play.

After smoothing back invisible stray hairs and straightening her jacket, Zoe left the bathroom and walked to her office. As Zoe walked through the door, she was engulfed in a hug. Her hands splayed out to the sides instinctually, but when she realized it was Sam, she hugged them back.

"Hey there friend," Zoe said, rubbing Sam's back gently. "How are we feeling today?"

Sam didn't answer or let go. Zoe kept rubbing Sam's back and soon noticed a slight shake happening. She listened and realized that Sam was crying.

"Oh Sam," Zoe held Sam tighter. "It's okay. You're okay."

"I know," Sam whispered, their voice thick with tears. "But I'm still embarrassed. I read back through all of my texts this morning when I woke up and I dumped so much on you. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Zoe murmured. "I'm not mad or sorry it happened. I'm here for you. I need to know how you're doing."

"I made an appointment with my therapist for Monday," Sam sniffled, finally letting go of Zoe. "We took a break when I went to Europe last year and I never went back, but clearly I need to."

"That's great, Sam," Zoe said, squeezing their shoulders. "I want you to feel fully supported during this process."

"I do," Sam nodded. "I don't want you to feel like you're not enough."

"That's not what I meant," Zoe clarified. "I can't be everything you need and be your editor. You need to have multiple sources of support. That's why you have me and Esther and your therapist. We'll all walk you through this in different ways."

"Did you tell Esther about last night?"

Sam looked down at their shoes.

"I did," Zoe said slowly. "They were waiting for me when I got here this morning and we talked. They wanted to know how you were handling everything and I was honest. I didn't share everything, but I did tell them that you were struggling with this new world that you've suddenly found yourself in."

Sam nodded, but kept their eyes downcast.

"They care about you," Zoe said. "We both only want what's best for you. That might come with some tough love, like when I had to tuck you into bed at 4am."