A sister's advice

(Zara) Mia showed up at my apartment with wine and no warning. "I texted," she said, pushing past me into the kitchen. "You didn't answer, which means you're either dead or hiding. You look alive, so." "I was working." "On a Wednesday night. In your pajamas." She set the bottle on the counter and started opening my cabinets like she lived here. "Where do you keep the glasses that don't have cartoons on them?" "Second shelf." She found two, poured, and handed me one. Then she leaned against the counter and looked at me the way she'd been looking at me since we were kids, the look that said she already knew the answer and was only waiting for me to catch up. "So," she said. "How's the job with the stranger you slept with?" I nearly choked on the wine. "Keep your voice down." "We're in your kitchen. The only one who can hear me is you." She took a sip. "Talk." So I talked. I told her about the meeting, about him agreeing with me twice in front of the whole room, about the way everyone had turned to look at me when he did it. I told her about the coffee Priya kept bringing and the assignment due Friday and how I'd made my third campaign direction so strong that no one could question why I was there. I did not tell her about the way he'd watched me from the glass wall. Some things I wasn't ready to say out loud, even to Mia. "Okay," she said when I finished. "That's the work part. Now the part you're skipping." "There's no part I'm skipping." "Zara." She set her glass down. "You've been talking for ten minutes and you haven't once said his name." I looked into my wine. "His name is Sebastian." "I know his name. I want to know why you can't say it." The truth was that saying his name made him real in a way I wasn't ready for. In the bar he'd been Trouble, a joke I'd made to feel brave. On Monday he'd become Mr. Wolfe, a title I could hide behind. But Sebastian was the man who'd told me to leave if I'd regret it, who'd noticed I wasn't as drunk as I pretended, who'd held my wrist in his office and said he wouldn't let it be nothing. Sebastian was the dangerous one. "He cornered me in his office on Monday," I said. "Told me he moved me onto his project because he wanted me close. Then he told me this wasn't over." Mia went still. "And what did you say?" "I said it had to be over. Because he's my boss. Because I just spent three years being made a fool of and I'm not doing it again with someone who signs my paycheck." "Good." She nodded once. "That's the smartest thing you've said all week." "I know." "So why do you look like you're about to cry?" I put my glass down harder than I meant to. "Because I don't want it to be over, Mia. That's the problem. I want it to be over, and I don't, and both of those are true at the same time, and I hate it." She was quiet for a moment. Then she pulled out one of my kitchen stools and sat, patting the one beside her until I sat too. "Listen to me," she said. "You just got out of something that broke you. I watched it break you. I was the one you called from your car with your makeup ruined. So I need you to hear this from someone who loves you and would never lie to you." She took my hand. "You are not okay yet. "You think you are because you got a new job and a fresh start and you threw a cake at Ryan's stupid face." My eyes stung. "I know." "A man like this, who looks at you like he's already decided he's keeping you, is dangerous for a woman who isn't healed yet. Because it feels like being chosen. And you are so hungry to feel chosen right now that you can't tell the difference between what's good for you and what just feels good." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "When did you get wise?" "I've always been wise. You just don't listen." She squeezed my fingers. "I'm not saying he's Ryan. Maybe he's the greatest man alive. I'm saying it doesn't matter, because you're not ready to find out. Give yourself time before you hand anyone that kind of power over you again." "He already has some of it," I admitted. "That's what scares me." "Then take it back. One day at a time. You're allowed to want him and still walk away. Wanting something isn't a reason to do it." I leaned my head on her shoulder the way I had when we were girls and the world felt too big. She smelled like the same perfume she'd worn for years, and something about that settled me more than any advice could have. "I have to see him Friday," I said. "He told me we'd talk after the meeting." "Then you'll talk. And you'll keep it about work, and you'll go home, and you'll call me after." She kissed the top of my head. "And if he tries anything, I'll drive down there and throw a cake at him too." I let out a deep breath. "You're not allowed near my job." "I'm allowed anywhere my sister needs me." We stayed like that for a while, the wine going warm on the counter, neither of us saying a word. For the length of one evening I let myself believe I had it under control. That Friday would just be a meeting. That I could want him from a safe distance and never close the gap. Mia left near midnight, hugging me twice at the door and making me promise to eat something that wasn't cereal. I locked up behind her and stood in the quiet. Three years of my life were over. The stranger from one reckless night wasn't a stranger anymore. And Friday was coming whether I was ready or not.