Inevitable Ever After

Part 3

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I actually make it out of the office before 7 o'clock. Even with enough spare time to seriously pick up something to eat from the drive-in on my way home.

But of course, Juliet doesn't show up for our movie-date.

She never does anymore.

Not since she got engaged.

So I sit alone on the couch in my living room, muffled in the fluffy blanket and stuff slice after slice of pizza in my mouth until the carton box is empty and my stomach so full I think someone could roll me. I zap through the TV stations for a while, settle for a re-run of that show with the four nerds. Something safe, funny yet scientific, and in any case thematically far away enough from anything mythical or enchanting.

My thoughts stray anyway.

Juliet and I had been one soul before she met Amir. We've been inseparable since pre-school.

We had all our firsts together. First boyfriends, first hangovers, first experiences with the fairy tale curse when a bunch of kids in the neighbourhood went missing, that sadly weren't Hansel and Gretel. Moving out from home, college, realizing that money does make happy and that nobody fits in the same size jeans their entire life.

Juliet was right there with me through it all. Now I haven't seen her since my father's funeral last year.

The fairy tale curse took both of them from me. Juliet, locked up in Amir's holiday estate outside of town. My father, dead of a heart attack way too young. And I am left to fight my own doom all alone. An exhausting, unrewarding battle, with an end I can only delay but never escape.  

Ever since, I might have filled the void of lacking company with the job. Going out, trying to make new friends, seemed a sad waste of my precious little free time.

My work phone buzzes with a call, effectively snapping me back into the present.

It's Caroline. My father's widow. The evil stepmother.

I don't think she hates me for any of the reasons she should, based on our original tale, but she does hate me. And I dislike her equally much.

I let the call go to voicemail. Imagine with eerie satisfaction how that annoys her enough to ruin her evening, souring the wine she is sipping while staring in her hand mirror, sitting alone in her kitchen in a blood red dress I couldn't afford with three pay checks.

She calls right again. I groan, free myself from the blanket and pick up.

"Finally! What are you doing?" she snaps in her squeaky voice before I can even think of saying hello.

"Work," I lie.

"Ah." She doesn't care and has thankfully stopped pretending she does. "Has the lawyer contacted you?"

She means Steve, one of the sons from Edwards & Sons, the law firm handling my father's will and all the issues coming along with it. 

My heart clenches. "No, still not."

"He is so incompetent," she says. "I'll call him tomorrow."

I swallow hard. "Okay."

A short moment of silence unfolds. I consider faking politeness. She doesn't. "Well, goodbye."

I let the phone slide and pinch my nose, trying to fight back the tears. I don't mind that she hates me. I don't even mind that she wants the inheritance my father left me – I wouldn't know what to do with his barber shop anyway. She can have everything she wants, as long as she leaves me alone.

I don't know what exactly hurts. It just does. Maybe the day has been too long already, with Jared and Juliet and now this. I would have liked to think other days were better. But then I would have been lying to myself. All days are a challenge, when you are trying to avoid a curse.

I curl up on the couch, pull the blanket over my head and hug a pillow to my burning chest. If I wasn't so full with pizza, I would get the bucket of ice cream from my freezer. 

When my phone buzzes again it takes an unreasonable amount of strength to look at the screen.

Thankfully it's not Caroline again. It's a text from Amber.

"OH MY GOD!"

I cringe.

"Mr. Schneider just announced his retirement in May."

I rise an eyebrow. Because that's not news. The man is old. We all knew it was coming.

The next message in the chat is an image of Mr. Schneider shaking a man's hand. It's blurry but if you know the people recognizable enough. If you've seen that exact person in that exact suit a few hours earlier recognizable enough.

"Looks like Jared is getting the job."

That bastard. 

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