2: 2

2

Paul thought I was still throwing a fit.

So he dug in too, said nothing, and just signed off on my resignation.

When HR finished processing my paperwork, she was quietly happy for me.

*Lawyer Pruitt, with your talent, you should've gone somewhere better a long time ago.*

My resignation had been approved barely ten minutes.

Then Mercedes asked Paul, right there in the team chat:

*Boss, can I have Lawyer Pruitt's office?*

Paul fired back a smiley face and added a note for everyone:

*Of course. This firm never shortchanges the people who work for it.*

*Also, given Mercedes's outstanding performance lately, she's being fast-tracked to a full position ahead of schedule.*

A second later, I was removed from the team chat.

When HR saw the messages, she sent me one, furious:

*Lawyer Pruitt, she's an intern who got in through connections. What gives her the right to sit in that office?*

I only managed an awkward little smile at that.

I could picture it perfectly: Mercedes playing the caring one, all for Paul's sake, feeding him ideas just to get under my skin.

In the past, the moment we fought, Paul would make a point of getting cozy with Mercedes.

And I, uneasy, would always cave first and go to him, just to smooth things over.

That trick of his had worked every single time.

Not this time. I wasn't playing along.

She wanted the office? Fine, let her have it.

I'd been fighting for so long that I had nothing left.

......

Outside the stadium in Mexico, the crowd surged, and I spotted Antonia Vance right away.

We didn't see each other often. We'd met years ago, through Lolo's organ donation.

And we'd come to Mexico for one reason only: to make Lolo's wish come true.

I'd just raised my hand to wave at her.

Then my eyes shifted, and I saw Paul and Mercedes, fingers laced together.

His eyes met mine, and he jerked his hand away as if he'd been shocked.

I turned to leave, and Paul grabbed me and held on.

His voice came at my ear, edged with a trace of smugness:

*Knew you'd come chasing after us.*

*These past couple of days, you've been jealous, haven't you?*

Then he rushed to add:

*There are so many people here. I was only holding her hand so Mercedes wouldn't get lost.*

*You know how it is. Our families go way back. I'd have a lot to answer for if I lost her.*

Mercedes leaned in with a bright, sunny face, warm as if nothing had happened.

Except every word she said was quietly painting how close she and Paul were.

*Viola, so you were upset because Paul and I were watching the game together?*

*Don't worry. If I really liked Paul, I'd have married him ages ago.*

*It's just, the two of us have watched games together since we were kids. It's a habit. Next time I'll have Paul bring you along.*

That condescending tone. I knew it too well.

At the firm, she was the intern I was supposed to be training, and she stuck to Paul's side instead.

Whenever I brought it up, Mercedes would look at me all innocent and explain:

*Paul's tutored me since we were little, so I pick things up faster learning from him.*

It wasn't until Antonia pushed a bag of sandwiches into my hands that my thoughts snapped back.

She'd walked over with no idea what was going on, and she nudged me, excited:

*Come on, eat up and let's get inside for the game.*

At that, Paul's expression darkened at once.

Mercedes deliberately raised her voice, stirring the pot:

*So, Viola, you actually came here to watch the World Cup, and not to apologize to Paul?*

The whole thing struck me as absurd and ridiculous, and I couldn't help firing back:

*Why on earth would I apologize?*

*Which law says I'm not allowed to come watch the World Cup?*

The girl's big eyes brimmed with tears in an instant.

Seeing me snap at Mercedes, Paul flared up too.

*Viola, that's enough!*

*You quit for no reason, left Mercedes to work overtime cleaning up your mess, and I let that slide. Now you're being harsh with her too?*

I laughed out loud, forcing down the hurt inside me, and shot back:

*Overtime doing what? The kind of overtime where you throw your arms around the boss and kiss him at a stadium?*

*Besides, the firm has plenty of interns. One round of overtime gets her a full position early. Pretty good deal, isn't it?*

Paul realized I had, after all, seen them kissing, and you could watch his bluster drop three notches.

*The team we support scored, that's all. Emotions ran a little high.*

*Things are more open abroad anyway. The camera panned over, so we left a little commemorative kiss. It's perfectly normal……*

Before I could get a word in.

Antonia, standing beside me, couldn't hold back any longer:

*Oh? So if the team you support wins the whole thing, are you going to make a baby right there to celebrate?*

Paul had no comeback for that.

His face went dark, and he said in a tone that left no room for argument:

*I'll give you three days. Watch your game, then come home like a good girl.*

*Write a letter of apology, you can go back to the firm as usual, and I can pretend none of this happened.*

I lifted my head and looked calmly at this face I'd loved for years.

This time there was no hurt, no anger, only a polite distance.

*Excuse me, would you move aside. You're blocking us from going in to watch the game.*

3: 3

3

Antonia kept cracking bad jokes the whole way, and it finally took the edge off the ugliness from before.

What I didn't expect was that the two of them would come chasing after us like ghosts again.

Paul had paid to swap into the seat right next to us.

When he squeezed in beside me, his eyes wouldn't quite meet mine, but his voice stayed stubborn.

"Since we're all here anyway, of course I'm going to watch it with you."

But Mercedes, taking the seat next to him, made no effort to hide how little she wanted to.

She swallowed her irritation and deliberately came bouncing over instead, all sunshine and smiles.

"Viola, if you can't follow the rules of the game, just ask me anytime."

"Paul hates being bothered when he's watching a match, so whatever you do, don't suddenly start asking him things, okay?"

With that, she wedged herself right between us as if it were the most natural thing in the world, swapping places with Paul.

That nameless irritation came surging back through me.

"I don't like being bothered when I watch either."

"You don't need to trouble yourself explaining. Thanks."

The mood soured in an instant, and Paul's tone carried open reproach.

"You don't understand a thing but you pretend you do. Mercedes was being kind, and you throw it right back in her face."

"We were good enough to pay a premium to switch seats and keep you company, and you have to put on this fake, holier-than-thou act. Who's it for?"

"Besides, Mercedes has been a sports fan since she was little. She's willing to help you understand the World Cup. Would it kill you to ask a few humble questions?"

I didn't look at him again. I stood, grabbed my coat, and took one last glance at those two faces pressed close together.

"Since you two are childhood sweethearts with so much in common, I won't intrude on your fun."

From the moment Paul had switched over to our seats, Antonia had made her distaste plain and gone off somewhere else.

I got the number for my new seat and walked straight off.

"Viola Pruitt, don't push your luck!"

The team was just coming onto the field right then, the whole stadium roaring, and Paul's words were completely swallowed up in the cheers.

And I didn't look back. I slowly disappeared from his sight.

......

When that familiar figure came running across the green field, Antonia and I exchanged a glance, and our thoughts were pulled back to that hospital room four years ago.

Paul hadn't eaten for three days and three nights because of the liver cancer, and I stayed with him, my whole life sinking into darkness along with his.

It was Lolo who came over to me, carrying a box of fried chicken, tugging Antonia along with her.

Their eyes were bright as stars as they pointed him out to me on the TV, buzzing with excitement.

"Viola, that's my favorite soccer star."

"You know what? The only reason I've held on this long is because of my idol. He never gives up, right down to the last second!"

After that, the painful days seemed to take on a little warmth. Somehow it was two sick girls who ended up giving me strength.

The roar of the whole stadium pulled me out of the memory and back to the present.

As the final shot froze on the screen, the team we were rooting for won a narrow three-to-two.

The cheering swelled louder and louder, and the star we'd come to support actually pulled off his jersey and flung it out across the crowd.

The camera caught me and Antonia holding the jersey high, hugging each other in celebration.

In that moment, we both missed Lolo so much.

After the game let out, plenty of fans crowded over, offering big money to buy the jersey out of my hands.

Even Paul pushed his way in, looking at me with delighted surprise.

"Viola, you don't understand soccer anyway. Why don't you give this jersey to Mercedes as a keepsake?"

"When we get back, I'll clear out your shopping cart for you."

I put the jersey away and let his words wash right past me.

When Paul saw I still wouldn't pay him any mind, his patience finally ran out.

"Viola Pruitt, keep making a scene and we're breaking up."

"Fine. We're breaking up."

4: 4

4

Paul thought he'd misheard.

By the time it registered, I was already far down the road.

His next message came a few days later.

*We're flying home. Send me your flight details and I'll pick you up.*

I didn't reply with a single word.

When his plane touched down and he messaged again, the little red exclamation mark was all I saw.

I'd blocked Paul on every channel, but I'd forgotten there was still Mercedes.

By the time I noticed, her social media feed was wall to wall with nine-photo brag posts, the latest one reading:

*Hehe, a little gift from the big boss to make it official.*

In the pictures: an office buried in flowers, and the signed jersey Paul had paid over a million to make up for.

It hit me all at once that back when we first got together, Paul was still just a nobody of a lawyer.

He'd bought me a hearty bowl of beef stew at a roadside stand and swore up and down that once he made it, he'd marry me.

The day the firm opened its doors, he said he was too busy, just wait a little longer.

Once the firm found its footing, he said he had to build it bigger.

Until last month, when he got drunk and mistook me for Mercedes, and the truth slipped out with the liquor:

*Mercedes, you were right. It's not that I didn't want to marry Viola. I just hadn't had my fill of freedom yet.*

That was the sentence that finally started the slow chill setting into my chest.

So it turned out eight years of my effort and my company couldn't even outweigh a single sentence from someone else.

The airport announcement came over the speakers, and Antonia and I said our goodbyes there, with a promise to meet again at the next World Cup.

......

First stop back home, I went to the firm to clear out my things.

On my way out, the engagement diamond I'd tossed into the wastebasket without a thought had been fished back out by a colleague.

She weighed the ring in her hand, a little regretful.

*Lawyer Pruitt, you're so careless. A stone this fine isn't cheap.*

I smiled, didn't take it, and pressed the ring back into her palm.

*Keep it if you like it. It doesn't suit me anyway.*

I wasn't lying. The size was something Paul had Mercedes help pick out.

So the size was Mercedes's too.

Looking back, maybe this ring was never meant to be mine.

I'd just carried the box out the door when I ran into Paul's car parked at the curb.

He was opening the door for Mercedes himself, all closeness in the way he stood.

When he saw me, Paul dropped his eyes to the box in my arms and let out a cold laugh.

*Quit the act. You've made a few trips back and forth here already, haven't you.*

*I spent these last couple of days smoothing things over with Mercedes for you.*

*Go downstairs, apologize to her, and get back to work.*

I didn't stop. I walked straight over and pulled open the driver's door.

Paul panicked and raised his voice at my back.

*Viola Pruitt, this is your last chance.*

I settled into the car, watched him in the rearview mirror still frozen where he stood, and quietly said goodbye to eight years of my youth.

Paul, I hope we never see each other again.