V & V (wlw)

Chapter 20 - The one with the email

On the morning of the day she had always dreamed of, Veronika got up extra early, got dressed, spent an anxious couple of hours pacing the living room, and ran out into the hallway the moment Victoria's doorknob started to turn. By the time Vic worked through a lonely breakfast, Ron was driving away toward the literary agent's.

She made it with no mishaps, growing more excited all the while, and even the bleak beige carpets couldn't dampen her mood. Neither did the thought of camping out in Jess's cramped car outside the alleged bar Victoria frequented, which she had to do later today. But that's because Veron didn't let her brain dwell on the thought.

The agent was a middle aged woman with hair that looked much older than middle aged. Veron had stopped dyeing her hair some time ago and hoped her early-greying hair looked like that in the future.

She was ushered into a much more comfortable office, where she sat – at the agent's insistence – on the therapy couch she somehow had in her office.

"Here's the thing, Veronika. I want to see this out there, and I want it untouched for the most part. Problem is, there are other guys out there who want it tweaked, just slightly."

"That'll depend on what they want to change," said Ron, whose brain had stalled at published.

"What's something you won't compromise on?"

"The queers," said Veron, who knew exactly where the conversation was going.

"That's what I assumed." The agent gave her an indulgent, conspiratorial smile. "I don't want that changed either. We'll feel the drag, but it's a drag we've been feeling for most of our lives. I'm glad your manuscript ended up with me."

They discussed some more, all good things, and at the end of the appointment, they shook hands again in camaraderie. Veron waltzed out of that office in high spirits.

Which she needed, because next on her agenda was spending several hours sitting in a car with two other people.

"Are we even sure it was her?" Ron was still in denial, which told her something about herself.

Celia was so tired of it. "I am."

Jess said, "Let's give it a couple more days, okay? And then you talk to her about it."

Ron wanted to say, what if she gets mad, but that would raise questions she didn't want about the nature of their relationship.

They were parked in the street across the club's entrance like they had been for the past couple of evenings, hiding behind the likely-illegal tinted windows in Jess's car.

The place was just as described – falling apart, probably not up to code, and anyone who knew better wouldn't come near it. Perfect for seedy activities like cheating on your wife.

Despite this, the place still had some visitors. Veron hoped against hope that she would never see Vic darken that doorway.

Just before dinnertime, an unmarked car, the kind people buy secondhand and drive to office jobs in, rolled to a stop along the street. The door opened and Victoria walked out without even glancing around – god heard Ron's prayer and thought it would be really funny if the answer was no.

The three of them in the car looked at each other and watched in comedic, abyssal horror as Vic strode toward those double glass doors and pushed them open. They stayed in strained silence for the near-hour it took for Victoria to come back out again. She was alone, just as she had been when she came in. But that was enough for Ron.

"Right," she said, as Victoria's shitty beater car drove away, "Right. That's that."

"Are you okay," began her friends, but Ron waved them away.

"I will be. There's something I gotta do. Drive me home, please." And Ron felt her chest constrict when she said home, felt tightness in her ribs at the thought that she considered it home now, that place she had made a life in. With Victoria.

It was risky to go back to the tower when she knew Vic was heading there also, but Ron made it before Victoria did.

Veronika had principles, and things she believed in, because if she believed in nothing she thought it was a boring life to live. One of them was believing that real winners quit, and she barely felt like a winner.

She grabbed a weekender, stuffed it with documents and all the things she needed, and was out of there in less than half an hour. After a detour at Jess and Celia's apartment to leave her bike, she made it to the airport and paid for a very expensive last-minute ticket for the next flight – an hour from now - out to the other side of the country. The cost had barely dented her now – that was one thing she thanked Victoria for.

Ron paid for onboard Wi-Fi and typed up an email.

...

Victoria,

As our contract comes to an end, I've made the decision to evacuate. I know I've left most of my stuff, but you can do whatever you like with all that. You got me those anyway. Contact me when you want to get the divorce started.

Thanks for all this.

Best,

Veron