Sumaya Kasimu is a love cynic. Perpetually entangled in relationships that drain her time and energy, her most recent breakup only reinforces her belief that love is a letdown. Dating doesnât excite her. It exhausts her. To her friends, sheâs the designated heartbreaker, the one who walks away before things have the chance to fall apart.
After yet another failed office romance, Maya swears off datingâespecially anyone from work. Itâs a foolproof rule. That is, until a new hire from New York is placed under her wing. Suddenly, heâs challenging her at every turn, questioning how she interacts with authors, how she handles conflict, even how she sees herself. His persistence grates on her nerves⊠until she realizes it doesnât feel like criticism. It feels like care.
Sumaya Kasimu is a love cynic. Perpetually entangled in relationships that drain her time and energy, her most recent breakup only reinforces her belief that love is a letdown. Dating doesnât excite her. It exhausts her. To her friends, sheâs the designated heartbreaker, the one who walks away before things have the chance to fall apart.
After yet another failed office romance, Maya swears off datingâespecially anyone from work. Itâs a foolproof rule. That is, until a new hire from New York is placed under her wing. Suddenly, heâs challenging her at every turn, questioning how she interacts with authors, how she handles conflict, even how she sees herself. His persistence grates on her nerves⊠until she realizes it doesnât feel like criticism. It feels like care.
Being alone is easier than this. As I sit at my dining table, finally voicing the truth that has been gnawing at me for months, the thought that I might be the problem floats through my head.
âYouâre joking, right?â Ramon questions me, his eyes filled with pure disbelief. Shock and hurt radiate from his gaze, and I struggle to suppress the waves of guilt and discomfort that rise within me as I commit to this inevitable end.
Again.
With a deep breath, I fix my eyes on his, pushing aside the queasiness in my stomach. âI think we want different things,â I say, wincing at the words even as they leave my mouth. It feels like dĂ©jĂ vu, like Iâm trapped in a conversation weâve had before. Which we did. Six months ago, when I first broke up with him.
Since then, heâs remained in my life as a friend, but even during this time, he has done everything he could to try and get back together, even going as far as to make impromptu visits and set up dates he classifies as âfriends catching up.â For the past month, this realization has been gnawing at me, all while bracing myself for this moment. Ramon is a decent guy, seeking a future with me I simply cannot envision. Ever since he crashed my Sunday brunch two weeks ago and joked about getting an engagement ring, Iâve been living in constant fear he might try to push for more.
âI canât believe this, Maya,â he half-shouts, rising from his seat in a surge of emotion. His dark eyes search mine and I quickly look away from their intensity. âI really donât understand what you need. Why donât you see how good we can be together, how good we were before.â
Reasons were given the first time we broke up. But here we are again.
âRamonââ I begin, my voice trailing off as his interruption cuts through.
âNo, fuck this. I want you to tell me why you think we canât work.â
âIf youâd just listen to me,â I say, attempting to speak, but Iâm interrupted again.
âI feel like you wonât even give us a real chance.â
I should have done this in public. My friends told me to do it in public. They told me never to end things with someone in private.
Unfortunately, I thought it would be kind to give Ramon the space to react. Now, Iâm kicking myself for being so considerate. âI did give us a chance, Ramon. Even when I thought it was a bad idea because we work together. But like I said before, I just donât feel like weâre compatible. And you want more than I can offer you. I was okay with being friends, but this doesnât feel like a friendship anymore. It feels like youâre trying to force me back into being with you.â
âOkay, fine, weâll just stay friends like we are now,â he retorts.
I let out a loud sigh of frustration. This is what he said last time, but he constantly acts more like a boyfriend than a âfriend.â I need to end this constant loop.
Mustering up courage, I take Whitneyâs advice and decide to be honest and direct. Something I find hard to do. Iâm someone who prefers to beat around the bush until the person arrives at my point through a series of detours, twists, and turns. That way, they think itâs their idea and not mine. I tried the long route with Ramon, but he didnât catch on.
I exhale, my eyes dropping to my hands in my lap, trying to steady my racing heart. âIâm not sure if thatâs fair to you.â I can feel the weight of the words Iâm about to say pressing down on me, and I brace myself. âYou want moreâŠbut I donât want that.â
The âwith youâ is silent, hanging in the air, and I hope he wonât press for further explanations of what it is that I donât want.
âI donât understand. We were fine all week.â
âThatâs because we werenât together.â Which is true. In reality, Iâve been actively creating distance between us, a hard task in itself. âAnd we tried the friendship thing, but it doesnât work. So I donât think we should be anything anymore.â
He meets my gaze, a protest poised on his lips. My heart thunders in my chest like an insistent drumbeat. I struggle to maintain composure, drawing in a deep breath in an attempt to steady myself, but waves of anxiety wash over me, threatening to engulf my resolve. I watch him as he struggles to come up with more to say and silently pray that this will be the end. Itâs bizarre to me that heâs putting up a fight for us when heâs been trying to mould me into something Iâm not throughout our entire relationship.
What unfolds next catches me off guard. What I donât expect is for him to turn on me with an expression of pure disgust as he mutters just above his breath, âEnjoy a lifetime of solitude, Maya.â
In a swift motion, he rises from his seat, pushing against the tableâthe very same table we assembled togetherâand storms out, slamming the door shut behind him. Right as he leaves, Kat jumps on the table as if signifying his words about me becoming a lonely cat lady. While he never said the term âcat lady,â I canât help but sense thatâs what he meant. I extend my hand to pet Kat and feel her gentle purr under my touch.
The memory of her existence only adds to the absurdity of the moment. I shouldnât be a cat lady. I donât even like cats. She came into my life as a gift from my ex, just before Ramon. Youâd think he got me Kat before he knew of my indifference for the spiky felines, but no, he knew. He just loved them, and his friend had a litter he was trying to rehome. So he handed me a box one afternoon, smiling like heâd done something Iâd be proud of. I still remember the startled cry that escaped my lips when I opened it and was greeted by tiny amber eyes staring up at me. We ended things a day later. But I kept her.
Kat as a kitten was too cute to just give up. Her ginger fur was soft and warm. She liked to sidle up next to me wherever I was. Now she chooses when she wants to give affection. âHow can I be alone when I have you?â I whisper into her ears. Despite her spirited resistance, I lift her into my arms.
She settles in my embrace moments after I lock the door, phone in hand.
It takes four rings before Adeola picks up the FaceTime call. Itâs only a few seconds later that Whitney joins.
âRamon has left the building,â I announce to them both.
Whitney whoops with joy, while Adeolaâs eyes fill with concern. âIâm fine,â I assure her, hoping to wipe the pitying look off her face.
She doesnât seem convinced as she asks me if Iâm genuinely okay with it.
Shrugging, I settle onto the couch and turn on the TV, lowering the volume. The sports channel is still on, featuring a basketball game between teams I canât seem to identify. âWe broke up six months ago, Addie. I knew it wouldnât work out a long time ago, but somehow, he made me have to do it again. It just sucks that heâs hurt.â
âI never liked him,â Whitney declares bluntly.
âWhitney!â Adeola exclaims.
âWhat? He was so annoying and intrusive, and he never wanted you to live your life unless he was attached to your hip,â Whitney fumes with an eye roll. âPlus, he was so annoying during the Mexico trip, constantly on your ass.â
âHe was just worried,â I reply in his defence. At the time, I found him annoying. I was extra mad I had to top up my SIM card data three times because of the multitude of FaceTime calls I received from him.
âNo, he was being a bitch baby. Didnât he offer to pay for you to fly somewhere else to get you out of the trip?â
âHe did that?â Adeola shrieks through the phone.
âYes, he did that. Still wanna defend his ass?â Whitney retorts with an eye roll.
âWhatever. It doesnât matter anymore,â I interject, cutting off the back-and-forth banter. âThe friendship and relationship are over.â
âWell, not completely,â Adeola replies, concern clear in her voice. âYou still work together.â
I release an exasperated sigh, closing my eyes as I try to control my incoming headache. Kat perches on me, understanding my turmoil as she grooms her paws. A rare display of affection from her.
âI told you not to date a coworker,â Whitney boasts, reminding me of my poor decisions.
âNo, you didnât,â I say, opening my eyes to glare at her. âYou said heâs cute and looks like heâs packing.â
âWhich he was, if Iâm not mistaken,â Whitney continues, her voice laced with amusement. She sets her phone down, disappearing from the frame. All that remains is the slow, hypnotic rotation of her mahogany ceiling fan, its blades cutting through the stillness in slow motion.
âUgh, yeah. Doesnât matter now. He hates me and thinks Iâm Judas.â
âWhat did he say?â Adeola inquires.
âBasically, that I led him on and Iâm going to end up a lonely spinster because Iâm incapable of love.â I reply, gently nudging Kat off my lap before heading to the bathroom.
âHe said that?â
âIâm paraphrasing.â
âFuck him, he sucks. Making you have to do this twice, boo him,â Whitney interjects.
âI will never, ever, date someone I work with again. Please remind me I said this if I ever introduce you to another cute coworker.â
âI will,â Whitney promises.
âWhat if heâs the one?â Adeola poses.
âDoesnât matter if God ordained it. I cannot do this again. Iâm already terrified to go to work tomorrow.â
They both laugh despite the seriousness of my statement. My chest feels heavy with guilt and worry as I stress about the mess I created. It would be different if this was just some job I didnât care about, if I could find something equally perfect somewhere else. Which maybe I can? But this is my dream job. Senior Editor at a major publishing company. And not just any publishing company, but PeelBack Publishingâthe company that houses some of my favourite books and authors. The company that tries to promote diverse stories and voices.
Memories of the day I got my first interview swarm my mind. I showed up an hour early and rehearsed my answers to the most commonly asked interview questions for an entire week. My mother was sick of me by the day of the interview. I couldnât contain my excitement when I received the call offering me the role of an entry-level editor. I ordered one thousand dollars worth of work attire. Needless to say, my mother wasnât too happy about that either.
Now, six years later, Iâm being promoted to Senior Editor. When my boss shared the news, I was brimming with joy. It felt like the culmination of all the hard work and dedication I had poured into my career was finally paying off. Yet, amidst this moment of professional triumph, the situation with Ramon couldnât have come at a worse time.
Part of me is consumed by the fear that my efforts to establish new boundaries with him will tarnish our working relationship. The frustrating truth is that I never wanted one. It was all him. After a year of dating I called it, stating we were better as friends and colleagues. But here I am now, still dealing with the after-effects of my stupid decision.
While Whitney and Adeola carry on with their conversation, I stand in front of my brightly lit bathroom mirror and start my five-step nightly skincare routine. The familiar scent of aloe and jasmine rises as I smooth cleanser over my face, my fingers working in practiced motions. My brown skin is temperamental. Too many products lead to irritation, so Iâve stuck to the same regimen for the past three years.
Whitneyâs voice fills the space through my phone speaker, her excitement evident as she recounts the weekend she spent with Travis in Niagara. Once she announces she has to finish her show with Travis, we say our goodbyes.
I accomplished what I set out to do today, which is to let Ramon down easy. I know I did the right thing by setting things straight with him. Allowing him so much access to me was the first mistake. But now as I lay in bed, I canât help but worry about what tomorrow might hold. Seeing Ramon in the office after the way things ended is my only racing thought as I drift off to sleep.
From the first chapter, I was hooked. The voice is strong, and the setup is quite promising from the get-go.
Maya is a people pleaser with a toxic tendency to fall for her coworkers. Her last workplace romance ended so badly that she still has emotional whiplash. It wasn't just that Maya and Ramon weren't a good fit, but he was trying to mold her into his life, ignoring the reality of her own. Kudos to Maya for having the personal strength to end it, but the guilt of the breakout keeps her from really moving on. You can feel the weight of her choices and her internal tug-of-war as she navigates office politics, but you might also get just as mad as I was for Maya every time Ramon tries to make her feel bad for ending their relationship.
It's not all relationship woes for Maya; she's also navigating her position in a company that promotes diversity but doesn't always live up to that pledge. Maya sometimes feels like the token diversity hire, but she's also sometimes treated like one, too. I'm not sure if I was madder at Ramon for how he acted post-break-up or the other dude bros and her sometimes micro-aggressive boss Bruce.
This book doesnât shy away from the very real challenges faced by women of color in professional spaces â Maya must fight for almost every inch of her voice to be heard. You can read the privilege in the room during the scenes at Peelback Publishing, but at least Maya isnât completely overlooked. Thatâs where the weight of reality hits. The book feels contemporary and like an authentic and honest story without being overly dramatized.
Maya isnât the only character with depth and backstory. Sheâs been shaped by her past just as much as the book's love interest, Damian. He is opinionated but truthful, telling it like it is. Watching them circle each other with their emotional baggage was so satisfyingly messy.
The cast of characters feels like itâs just the right size, and they are all impressively well-developed. No one felt like filler, and every subplot added to the main story without feeling too complex. If you love realistic romances with depth, youâll enjoy this perfectly balanced book.