You Were Better When I Was Gone Chapter 01
Since I was little, my childhood friend Luke and my friend Sophie had given me a string of nicknames.
Dummy. Slowpoke. Wallflower. Invisible Girl.
They said those were the kinds of names only the closest people could get away with.
Sophie called me “Dummy” in the middle of my quarterly presentation, right in front of the entire office.
The room broke into laughter. The Director’s brow pinched. My face burned as I pushed through the rest of the slides, voice thin and wavering.
Luke reached over and ruffled my hair. “She didn’t mean anything by it. You are a little slow.”
At the company off-site, Sophie stood up in front of everyone and mimicked me stammering through a client meeting, stutter for stutter, shake for shake.
Luke laughed the loudest. Then he waved a hand. “All right, that’s enough, she’s got thin skin.”
Then he turned around and saved the video to his Instagram Story highlights.
Last week, at the client appreciation dinner, I closed my first million-dollar deal on my own.
Sophie raised her glass. “Look at our Dummy, actually closing a deal?”
The client’s face went tight. After the meal, he told me he’d need to “rethink” the partnership.
The million-dollar deal fell apart.
I sat in my car wiping my eyes. Luke tapped on the window, slid into the passenger seat, and handed me a tissue. “Come on. Next time, just keep her from drinking too much.”
I dried my face, opened my laptop, and submitted my resignation.
Eight years, from high school to now. I really did want to walk further with you.
I dropped the tissue back into his lap, rolled up the window, and pulled away.
Dear Dummy, congratulations.
You finally learned how to leave alone.
“Who approved your resignation?”
Luke’s voice came through the phone, slow and easy, like he was asking what I wanted for lunch.
I wedged the phone between my shoulder and ear and kept shoving clothes into my suitcase.
“HR. Standard procedure.”
“I told you not to be impulsive.”
He paused, and his voice softened a fraction. “I can talk to the client. I’ve still got some pull with your manager.”
I zipped the suitcase and glanced at the ticket on my desk, London, one-way.
“Luke, don’t bother.”
“Then what is this?” Impatience crept into his tone. “Sophie runs her mouth. You’ve known that for years. Is this really worth all that?”
Worth it. A million-dollar deal. Three months of follow-ups. Forty-seven emails. Eleven rounds of revisions.
“Is it worth it?” I slid the ticket into my bag’s side pocket. “I’m not making a scene. I just want a change.”
“A change to what? You barely scraped by the TOEFL. Where are you even going?”
I didn’t answer.
He let out that sigh, the familiar one, the one he reserved for me.
“Fine. Take a couple days. This weekend, Sophie and I will take you out. We’ll talk.”
“I won’t be here this weekend.”
Two beats of silence.
“What do you mean?”
“My flight’s the day after tomorrow.”
The quiet stretched longer this time.
I heard rustling on his end, probably digging for a cigarette.
“Where?”
“London. A friend’s company needs someone. I’m giving it a shot.”
“You” He sounded like the words caught in his throat. “You’re serious?”
I looked at myself in the mirror. Eyes still puffy. Lips cracked. The whole picture gray and drained.
“Serious.”
“Sarah.” My full name, his voice dropping. “Are you doing this to get back at me?”
I almost laughed. Eight years, and he still read every decision I made as a tantrum.
“Not getting back at you.”
“Then tell me why are you leaving?”
Why. Because you and Sophie turned me into a punchline, and you don’t even see the bruise. Because every time I climb one step, she knocks me back down with one throwaway line and you’re always there, saying she didn’t mean it. Because I’m finally exhausted and I didn’t say a single word out loud.
“I just want to see something new.”
“You? You can’t even read a subway map without going the wrong way.”
“I’m hanging up.” I cut him off. “Still have packing.”
“Sarah.”
I pressed End. The screen went dark and Sophie’s message lit up right behind it.
“Sarah, I heard you quit?? No way, what are you even gonna do without me and Luke? Come on, stop being dramatic, let’s hang out this weekend, my treat, okay? I’ll make it up to you.”
I stared at the line what are you even gonna do without me and Luke for a long moment. Then I set the phone down.
I dragged my suitcase to the living room. On the coffee table sat the hair clip Sophie had left last week, a glittery little butterfly.
I picked it up. Dropped it in the trash.
The doorbell rang. Sophie.
She stood there in a cream knit dress, hair in soft waves, holding a bag of fruit.
“You’re actually packing?” She craned her neck to look past me, eyes wide. “Oh my god, Sarah, you’re really doing this?”
I stepped aside and let her in.
She set the fruit on the table, turned around, and her eyes were already red-rimmed. “Is this because of last time? I told you, I was drunk. Sarah, you can’t seriously be leaving because of that…” Her voice trailed off, head dipping, fingers twisting the hem of her dress. “What am I supposed to do without you?”
There she was. That was Sophie, she always knew exactly when to go soft. She always made it look like I was the one hurting her.
“It’s not about you,” I said. “I want to go.”
She looked up, eyes wet. “Really? You’re not mad at me?”
“No.”
“Then… please don’t go?” She took my hand, pink nails, soft grip. “Or at least wait until Luke gets back, he can figure something out for you.”
“Sophie.” I pulled my hand free. “My flight leaves at six the day after tomorrow.”
She went still.
Something flickered behind those pretty eyes. Fast. I couldn’t name it.
Then she smiled, reached up, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Then I’ll see you off at the airport.”
“Don’t bother.”
“I have to.” Her voice turned earnest. “You’re my best friend.”
My best friend. She said that while I remembered her calling me Dummy in front of the client three months ago. Her impression of me stammering, shared over two hundred times. Luke laughing the loudest.
My best friend. “Suit yourself,” I said.
She hugged me tight, chin hooked over my shoulder. “Sarah, promise you won’t forget about me over there, okay?”
I didn’t answer. When she pulled back, my phone buzzed.
A message from Luke.
“I don’t agree.”
Three words. No period.
I stared at it for two seconds, then switched the phone off.