Living With Vicky Exclusive -

I didn’t have an answer. Or maybe I did, and I just didn’t know how to say it. That talking would make it real. That if I said out loud how scared I was—about my job, about my future, about the fact that I was twenty-nine and still didn’t know what I wanted—then I’d have to do something about it. And doing something was terrifying.

“I know,” I said.

“Where are we going?”