The Bucketlist

77 | MAYBE, MEANT TO BE

"No! I don't want your help with the dress!" I said for the tenth time when Will knocked on the door. I was stalling in the washroom, puking, and I had zero ideas on when did I get severe anxiety issues?

"Blergh!" I am so done with this shit! The presentation was going to start in a few minutes, and I was supposed to be on stage beside Mikhail.

When I introduced myself as his editor, Mikhail shot me a weird look.

I knew I looked stupid, but I wasn't a total disaster when trusted with writing. Everyone had to be good at something! Editing was my forte. Nine months ago, I would still hate my job even when I loved writing, but today was the day when my resilience was getting rewarded. My first ever event as a senior editor, and I couldn't stop throwing up.

"Eva, you need to come out now, baby," Will said, and I peeked out from the door.

"I don't think I can do this," I said, and his eyes softened.

"You can do anything. Remember how you made me write that appreciation note for working on Sundays?" Will said, reminiscing.

"You brought the rose for me?" I asked, and he nodded. How could I be so dense!

"I thought you'd know!" He said, shrugging. So he really did appreciate me before. I wanted to feel emotional and clingy, but my stomach was tied into knots.

"Will, could you please get me a glass of lemonade?" I pleaded, and he vanished. Probably, to get me lemonade!

I washed my face, drying it with the towel. It would only take a quick second to redo the mascara and adjust my dress. I admired Will's taste in women's outfits. It was black, but thankfully it was not the horrible pencil skirt. It reached my thighs and had long sleeves. I paired it with black stockings. I still didn't get Bexley's obsession with black, but I got used to it.

I popped my lipstick on, reapplying it to make sure it didn't spread.

"Eva, here's your lemon-" Will stopped mid-sentence when I came out of Fordshire High's washroom.

"Holy shit. So hot." Will said, and I felt my cheeks flush. I took the glass, muttering a thank you, and his eyes glued to me.

"Staring is rude," I said, taking a sip.

"You look too good for someone who just threw up," Will said, and I rolled my eyes.

"I would beg to differ!" I said, feeling the sickness in the pit of my stomach.

"Come, let's go," Will said, placing his hand in the small of my back as I drank the lemonade from the bottle.

Breathe, Eva. Breathe. Count to ten. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.Seven.Let's just pretend it's a ten.

#

I've got this! I said to myself and climbed up the stage, standing beside Mikhail. He wore his usual cashmere sweater and gold frame specs. I let out a sigh as the hosts handed me the microphone. I whispered a 'thank you', clearing my throat before I spoke further.

"Fellow readers and writers, thank you for joining us in the 10,000th book launch event of Bexley's Publishing House!" I said, trying to come up with my best smile.

"Every story that becomes our friend, every character that we have fallen in love with, every plot that has left us in tears started in one person's head. We aren't unknown to the magic of writing and the immense joy and love it has spread over the ages.

Ladies, gentlemen, and non- binaries, I announce the launch of Sparks' fifteenth and latest novel, 'Maybe, meant to be." I said, and the screen flashed with the cover. The crowd cheered. I could see the smile on Mikhail's face growing wider and wider.