"I can't do this anymore," Gina muttered, fingers trembling as she tried to insert the key into her apartment door. The damn thing wouldn't go in. "Fuck!" She kicked the door and immediately regretted it when pain shot through her big toe.
Three years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated. Three years ago, I would've walked right in there and told that asshole exactly what I thought. But now? Now I'm standing in a hallway, crying over a stupid presentation.
The key finally slid in. Gina pushed the door open and threw her bag on the couch. Her roommate Trev looked up from his laptop, eyes widening when he saw her face.
"Bad day?" he asked.
"I chickened out again."
"The promotion thing?"
"Yeah." Gina grabbed a beer from the fridge, not bothering with a glass. "I practiced all weekend for that stupid pitch. Had all my slides ready. But when Peterson called on me, I just—I couldn't breathe. Asked if we could reschedule."
"What did he say?"
"He gave it to Marcelo instead." She took a long swig. "God, I hate myself right now."
Trev closed his laptop. "When did this start? You used to be the one who'd call out bullshit in meetings."
"Remember that project in Cleveland?" Gina sat on the counter, beer dangling between her knees. "The one where I got everyone fired up about challenging the client's stupid idea?"
"The one that cost the company like half a million?"
"Yeah, that one." The memory still made her stomach twist. "After that, I just... I started second-guessing everything. Like, what if I'm wrong again? What if I'm just not as smart as I think I am?"
Trev got up and leaned against the fridge. "So what, you're just gonna keep hiding forever?"
"I'm not hiding—"
"You are, though." He wasn't being mean about it, which somehow made it worse. "You used to send those crazy emails to the whole company about things that weren't working. Now you barely speak in meetings."
Gina stared at the beer label, picking at the edge with her thumbnail. "Easy for you to say. You've never screwed up that badly."
"Not publicly, maybe." Trev grabbed a beer for himself. "But I've messed up plenty. That's just... I dunno, part of being a person."
"Yeah well, being a person sucks sometimes."
Her phone buzzed. A text from Peterson: Still want to hear your ideas. Come see me tomorrow?
Gina showed Trev the screen. "What do I do?"
"You know what you need to do."
"I don't think I can."
"Yeah you can." Trev clinked his bottle against hers. "You just forgot how."
Gina took another swig, longer this time. "Okay, but you have to help me practice again. And I might throw up beforehand."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Trev grinned.
"Shut up." She threw a nearby dish towel at him, missing by a mile. Her aim had gotten worse too, apparently.
She typed a reply to Peterson: See you at 9.
The fear was still there, churning in her gut. But underneath it was something else.