Chapter 19

GRACE'S POV 

The moment those words left my mouth, I wished I had just slipped out of the bar and gone home instead. 

What was I even thinking? Was I thinking?

Lana's head snapped towards me. Shock spread over her face, surprise mixing in. She clearly wasn't expecting me to be here, talk less walk up to her.

“Grace?” she said, blinking like she wasn’t entirely sure I was real. I wish I wasn't, too. 

“In the flesh,” I replied lightly, crossing my arms. The stance looked defensive, but that wasn't my aim. I just wanted to look like I didn't feel too sympathetic. 

There was a brief pause between us, the air freezing slightly in anticipation, just like I was.

She studied me for a moment, her expression shifting between confusion, then something more guarded.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said finally, shifting her eyes to somewhere else.

“Me, too, but, well,” I shrugged. “I suppose life is full of unexpected things.” That, I could make my everyday mantra.

Her lips twitched slightly at that, like she almost smiled but stopped herself halfway. I almost raised an eyebrow at that. 

“Clearly.” She confirmed, almost weakly.

Another pause, awkward and uncomfortable. I wasn't expecting anything lesser than that.

I glanced at the empty seat across from her. “Do you mind if I join you? It's honestly awkward just standing here silently.”

She hesitated for a second, letting the thought of sitting across me simmer. Then she gestured vaguely. “Go ahead.”

I shrugged and sat down, placing my hands on the table as I took a moment to really look at her. My eyes furrowed as I really took her in.

Closer to her, it was much more obvious. She looked very tired, and there was just the faint presence of a once flawless make-up. Her red rimmed eyes made her look more human. Weak, but human. She didn't look as polished as I'd always seen her.

“Let me guess,” I said, leaning back slightly. “You’re here to celebrate.” I knew she wasn't there to celebrate, I just wanted to start a conversation. Anything would go at that point. 

She let out a short laugh that lacked humour. “Oh, absolutely. Nothing says celebration like public humiliation.”

“Fair point.” I pointed out. 

She picked up her glass again, swirling the drink. She looked like she wasn't even present with me. “You must have enjoyed the show, Grace. How was it?”

I raised a brow, offended a bit. “You think I’d come all the way here just to rub it in? Really?”

“You know what I think? I think that people love watching other people fall.” She said slowly, drink still in her hand.

I tilted my head slightly. “Some people actually do.”

“And you?” she asked, meeting my gaze.

I considered that for a moment. I didn't love watching other people fall, not at all. It was a sad scene to ever watch. 

“I think people fall for a reason,” I said. “The real question is what they do after. How do they deal with it?”

She held my gaze, something flickered in her eyes.

“And what do you think I’ll do?” she asked quietly, like she was aptly listening to whatever I had to say. And like she'd take advice on anything.

I shrugged lightly. “That depends. Do you even know why you fell?”

Her expression hardened slightly at that. Almost like I hit a nerve I shouldn't have.

“Be careful, Grace,” she said, her tone sharpening. “You’re starting to sound like you know more than you should. Do you?”

My heart skipped, just for a second. I didn't let my expression change, fearing she might see through.

“Or maybe,” I said calmly, “I just have been paying attention.”

Silence settled between us again, it was heavier this time.

This time, she looked away first, taking a long sip of her drink.

“People love to judge, you know” she muttered. “They see one moment, one mistake, and suddenly they think they understand everything. Like they know everything.”

“Do they?” I asked, curious as to where this was heading.

“Don’t they?” she shot back, eyes narrowed.

I leaned forward slightly, putting my hands together. “Or maybe they just see what you choose to show them. I don't know.”

That one hit, it very much did. Her grip on her glass tightened, I feared it would shatter in her hand.

“You don’t know anything about me,” she said, quieter now.

I absolutely didn't, but I knew one thing for sure.

“I know you’re not okay,” I said simply, because it was true.

She froze for a few seconds. Then she laughed, but it sounded forced. “Wow. That’s one, big, bold assumption there.”

“Is it wrong though?” I fired anyway.

She paused, put her drink down on the table and inhaled sharply. She shut her eyes, almost like she was trying to control her emotions.

That's the point where I should've said, ‘Sayonara’, and swiftly disappeared, but I didn't. I couldn't.

For a moment, I thought she wouldn't answer. I prepared to order a drink, drink it in one go, tell her goodnight and leave. 

“What would you suggest I do so I can be okay? That's just if I wasn't okay.” She pointed a finger at me as she said the last part. 

I smiled, unable to hold myself. She did need help, she just didn't want her ego to be destroyed. Even though I already believed her ego had been maimed and bruised in the office, I didn't plan to make it worse for her. There was only so much embarrassment one could take.

“I'm not saying I'm an expert on life, but from my experience, you can't completely avoid the problem. You have to face it head-on, or risk the problem and the result facing you head-on instead.” I told her. 

She raised an eyebrow. “Not the philosophical advice I was hoping for, but what do I know? You have more experience.”