On Sunday, Taylor spent the entire day combing through research papers, reference notes, and meeting minutes. She was determined to figure out solutions to the issues that had come up in her last project proposal meeting. Her living room was a mess—papers strewn across the coffee table, sticky notes plastered to her laptop, her hair tied in a haphazard bun, and she was still in her pajamas. Every now and then, she'd sigh, mumbling to herself as she jotted down notes.
Just then, her phone buzzed with a message.
Travis: [Image Attached]
Travis: My gym trainer's scary ass face is making me miss my personal coach 🥲
Taylor chuckled, unable to resist smiling at the photo of Travis's trainer scowling at him like a drill sergeant. She quickly snapped a picture of her own disheveled state—papers everywhere, hair a mess—and sent it back.
Taylor: [Image Attached]
Taylor: Your personal coach is thinking of early retirement before even turning thirty 🥲
A second later, his reply popped up.
Travis: Aw, what happened?
Taylor: Got an important meeting tomorrow. I need it to go well, can't have a repeat of last week's disaster.
Travis: I'm sure you'll rock it, babe.
Taylor: Didn't exactly rock the last one, though.
Travis: This time, you're more prepared. They won't know what hit them. Trust me, they'll have no choice but to do what you want.
Taylor stared at the screen, his unwavering confidence in her bringing a warmth to her chest.
Taylor: Now I miss you.
Travis: I miss you too.
Travis: I gotta go, though—trainer's giving me the death stare for texting you mid-session.
Taylor: Oh no, can't have that. Good luck with the scary gym guy!
Taylor: Talk later?
Travis: You bet.
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(15 july)
It was Monday, the day of the follow-up meeting to secure funding for her project. Taylor woke up early, her nerves buzzing with anticipation. She dressed in a sleek black skirt and blazer, paired with a crisp white blouse, aiming for an outfit that exuded both professionalism and confidence. She needed every bit of that armor today.
As she entered the hospital, she spotted Richard standing outside her office, arms crossed, waiting for her.
"Hey," Taylor greeted him warmly, giving him a quick hug. "What's up, old man?"
Richard chuckled. "Just checking in. The meeting's in half an hour."
"I know, I scheduled it," she replied, a slight smirk on her face.
"I just want to make sure it doesn't go like last time," he said, a hint of concern in his voice.
"It won't," Taylor said confidently.
Richard gave her a proud smile. "I can tell you're ready this time. See you in the conference room, Dr. Swift."
Taylor grinned. "See you there, Dr. Webber."
Just before heading to the meeting, her phone buzzed with a text from Travis.
Travis: You're gonna crush it. Go get 'em, babe.
YOU ARE READING
I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - A Tayvis Story
Fanfiction"Please, talk to me," Taylor had begged, pacing the room, her heart pounding with fear. "Let me come over. We can get through this together." But he had refused, his words sharp, cutting. "No, Taylor. You can't fix this. You can't fix me." xxxxxxxxx...
