What If Just...

5 Vivian

"I think I'm in love!" my friend tells me with a triumphant look.

A phrase I didn't think I'd ever hear, because Meg, unlike me, didn't wait for her love after reading romantic novels.
She has always argued loudest that love and marriage are nonsense, and that she will never go for it, 'cause it'll betray her ideals.

But at the same time, she is not so careless and would not throw around words.

"In love? How? With whom?" is all I can say.

"Yesterday I met a guy at the Club, his name is Alastair. We couldn't stop talking the whole evening. He has a great sense of humor!
You know, I always thought that in our world, among all the snobs, I would never be able to meet someone other than you who could understand me and make me laugh."

I can't help but interrupt.
"But are you sure it's really...love?"

She stares into my eyes.

"Yes, and I don't know how to explain my confidence, it's just a fact – I feel he was made for me, and I for him."

I have never heard such  sentimental words from Meg, but I understand one thing for sure – from that day on, she is lost to me, as our other friends are lost.

In a world where you need to live according to the plan, it's difficult to find time for other people besides your family, no matter how wonderful your relationship is and what memories you share.

I must have been silent for too long, because I hear Meg's quiet, cautious voice through my thoughts, "You're happy for me, aren't you, Viv?"

I am happy for you, but I'm afraid I will die without your presence in my life.

"Yes, of course, I'm glad. You will have your own family, I can't wait to see what your children will be like. Are you...are you going to keep working?"

"Wait, wait, wait! I didn't say I was getting married! I'm not that fast, I need to get to know him better, to get used to..."

She can say whatever she wants, but I know that everything has already been decided.

"Well, anyway, I'm glad that at least one of us won't have to suffer from pain anymore."

"You know I would never..."

"Yes, I know," I answer with assurance, looking into her brown eyes.

The rest of the lunch time passes in silence.

Meg and I part our ways, promising to call each other in the evening.

I approach Mrs. Adler's  office with poorly controlled anxiety.
As a rule, she calls more experienced employees, to whose opinion she can listen.
I haven't earned that trust yet. Or...

"Oh, Vivian, come in, come in, have a seat. I'll finish typing the letter now, and we'll get started."

While Mrs. Adler is writing, tapping on the keyboard, I'm examining her office – I haven't been here often.

"So, Vivian," she starts,  "You have been showing excellent results in your work since you were a  student, you have a keen interest in topics being really important for the Museum, you contribute to our common success and growth."

A ray of hope flashes in my heart that she will now offer me a promotion or allow perusing the materials that was previously unavailable to me.

"But..."

Or...

"I received a letter from the Department informing me your sensors have dropped to such an extent over the past week that I am required to close your access to the Museum. And this means you will have to be fired, because without access, your value as an employee is zero."