Somewine later
“Thanks, have a lovely evening,” I say to the taxi driver before my boots thud toward the oversized arched entrance door; late again, as usual. My work colleagues, some of whom have become good friends, know by now that I save my punctuality for official meetings only. As the elevator climbs toward the rooftop, I smile at the man riding with me, then take a deep breath, releasing the quiet thrill of a midsummer evening.
Bottles of wine, brimming glasses, and a full barbecue spread await on the large wooden table. I make my way through a round of hugs while the usual “fashionably late” jokes land exactly as expected.
I haven’t seen Millie in months, since jumping ship to become Chief Financial Officer somewhere very glossy. She and Rey have been inseparable lately, work trips and weekend getaways blending into one long, jet-lagged flirtation.
“So glad you’re here! Come, let me show you the new flat” and she walks me into the living room that takes my breath away when I realize I can see the whole city just as the sun sets for the day. They moved in earlier this year, the two of them. Rey’s kids come and go, but this place is theirs now, a new kind of nest they’ve built from scratch. Back when it all started, there was no dodging the office gossip, their roles were way too visible for that. But they proved everyone wrong. What looked like a risky office romance turned into something solid, sharp and the rest of us are just happy to orbit their perfectly curated chaos.
Settled and sunk on the couch on the rooftop terrace, Millie catches me up on all their holidays and work trips of past months. Her new American company makes her travel a lot and Ray is always her plus one. New York, Mexico, Greece.
In Mexico her company paid for a full-sized villa with a three floor terrace directly at the beach. They fly around the world constantly and take a break in Greece once a month at her dad’s house. Her life is what would be many people’s dreams but Cara and I can read through her. What seems to be a glamorous, perfect set up is also one filled with insecurities and uncertainties.
As the night goes on and we empty the wine bottles, she is on a roll: Brazil this, Barcelona that; the kind of stories that sparkle under rooftop lighting and sound even better with a glass in hand. It’s all seamless, but that’s Millie. She’s always had a talent for slipping into places like she was meant to be there. New cities, new roles, new lives; she adapts so well you forget to ask whether she even wanted any of it to begin with.
Millie is consumed by the life she’s built, by the version of herself she’s still shaping in real time. She’s successful, unmistakably, but the way she speaks about it always feels slightly too loud, like she’s still trying to hear it back and believe it.
There’s little space for anyone else — no real questions, no stories that don’t circle back to her. Not out of malice, just habit. Self-preservation, maybe. Cara and I don’t press. We’ve formed quiet theories, but mostly, we just let her be who she needs to be: bright, relentless, slightly unreachable.
I think that if that’s the version she chose, it should be the one to hold sway in our interactions.
I stopped expecting certain conversations to go both ways, years back, when my closest friend quietly decided that anything personal I shared made her uncomfortable. She never said it outright, she didn’t have to. You can feel that kind of silence. So I learnt that some relationships exist only for you to hold space, not to fill it. And Cara and I found it in us to make room for Millie.
The sky deepens into navy as laughter swells around us, someone refilling glasses with the casual elegance of people who’ve done this many times before. Cara smirks softly and shrugs. It’s affectionate, not mocking. We both know the dance. We take Millie’s hands and move to the rhythm of the song.
I sip my wine. The night is warm and slow. Our smiling eyes meet, sharing a suspended moment that settles into the quiet, graceful agreement that we can simply be, each in our own way.
