What manuscript is this?

I’ve been reading for an hour, but none of the words on the page make any sense. None of the characters seem familiar, either. I rub a hand across my eyes and flip to the front of the bound volume. The title doesn’t ring any bells. 

My eyes are burning, but I turn back to my computer and open up the program we use to manage contest entries. My heart sinks when I realize I’ve already read this one. I read it yesterday, and I made notes. Yesterday, I found the prose captivating and the pacing on point. Today, not a single sentence has made an impression.

I toss the manuscript on the pile for the finalists, even though I’m not sure anymore whether it should be one or not. On my desk, there are ten more. The interns have been doing an impressive job of weeding out the true gems.

I can’t even reach for the next one on the stack. The thought of doing it exhausts me.

No. I was exhausted before I thought about it. I was exhausted before I got up for work this morning. I was exhausted from the moment I got back to my apartment, after I ended things with Levi.

My throat closes in a tight, painful knot. How the hell could he do that to me? I mean, yes, it is his job. But the way we’ve been together made me think he understood. I thought he understood how much it meant for this to move at a pace I could tolerate. When did I ever make it seem like ripping off the Band-Aid was my preferred strategy?

There’s no going back now. That’s the worst part. All of the things that I wanted to protect have been crated up and tossed into the backs of trucks and driven to who knows where, in the care of who knows what kind of person, and I’ll never see any of them again, except in pictures. 

The laugh that tears from my mouth is a bitter one. At least I’ll have the pictures, even if I never get the chance to put my eyes on my family’s history in person. Levi made sure to send me the file, filled with taunting images of everything I’ve lost. As if I’d want to look.

It was a good decision, ending things with him. I just don’t see how we could have stayed together, when he’s responsible for—

God, I hate myself. I hate that I was so attached to everything. I hate that I reacted the way that I did. I hate that it affects me like this. But it does, and no amount of looking at the silver lining is making me feel any better.

I grit my teeth. My worst fear came true—that I’d lose everything and Levi—and it’s all my fault.

I take a deep breath in. I’m still here. My family is still intact, for the time being. There’s nothing else to want, on top of that.

Except maybe a little security. 

Except Levi.

I’m here, but I can’t be here right now. I just can’t do it.

I push myself back from my desk, more violently than I’d intended, and the chair almost goes over backward. I catch myself at the last second, irritation flashing through my chest. That would have been just perfect—giving myself some kind of head injury from throwing a hissy fit.

Helen isn’t in her office, but her favorite mug is missing from the surface of her desk, so I have an idea of where she might be. I find her in the break room, dipping a fresh tea bag into the mug. Steam rises from the surface. She looks up at me with a smile. It quickly turns into a frown.

“Uh oh.” She hangs the tea bag over the edge of the mug and leans against the counter. “Something’s up.”

“Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair. What was it that I was going to say to her? So many explanations for why I can’t do this right now—today—churn through my gut, but none of them are coherent. I have got to get a grip. “Listen, I’m—” No. I’m not going to present her with some list of bullshit excuses, like everyone else. I’m just going to own this. “I have some personal time saved up, right?”

Helen nods solemnly. “Do you need to take it?”

“I do.” The words I broke up with my boyfriend and it was a mistake are poised on the tip of my tongue, but even thinking it sounds absurd. It was the right decision, even if it was made in the heat of the moment. “I wondered if I could take the rest of today and Monday. My parents’ house—”

“How is everything with that?”

“It’s wrapping up.” That’s as much as I can say without some stupid lie tumbling from my mouth. “I need a couple of days to decompress.” From breaking up with Levi. Which is all wrapped up in the sale, in the auction, in the premature end to all of this. I need to sort through it in my mind, and I can’t do it here. The city is too stuffed with him. 

Helen’s eyes are sympathetic. “You’ve got the time. You can take it.”

“I’ll bring work with me. We won’t fall behind on the project—the interns are doing a great job, and I think we’re nearing the end of that process, too.”

“Let them know they can check in with me while you’re gone. Don’t take too much with you, okay? If you’re going to use personal time, you should actually use it. For whatever you need.”

“Thanks, Helen.”

I turn to go, but her voice stops me at the threshold. “Ruby?”

“Yeah?”

Helen purses her lips. “If you need more time, you just let me know.”

“I will.”

Back at my office, I stuff three manuscripts into my bag, shut down my computer, and head for the door. My head is throbbing, and now that I’ve decided to get out of the city the need to be on my own is more pressing by the second. 

On the way out, I stop in the bathroom and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I look like shit. My eyes are swollen and red against the ghostly pale of my skin. No wonder Helen is worried.

I splash some water on my face and force myself to stand up straight.

By tomorrow, I’ll feel better.

I will.