The Meeting
Note: This is a short story I wrote recently in honor of my husband, the love of my life. Purely fiction and romantic fluff. Hope it's not too sappy for ya.
It started out as such a good day. My favorite suit fresh from the cleaners. My hair laying exactly right. No traffic on the freeway. Annoying receptionist out sick. My out-box actually more full than my in-box. Not to mention the lavish praise from my boss on my latest project. Nothing like a pat on the back for a job well done to boost the ego and spirits. I probably looked ridiculous, walking back to my office with a big grin on my face, my heels happily tapping on the tiled floor. I was well on my way to that promotion I wanted so dearly. Nothing could ruin this day.
And then I saw him.
Had I not been so well practiced in wearing high heels I probably would have landed on my backside right then, files flying from my grip and floating down around me as I sat dumbfounded with mouth agape. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. But I did stop in my tracks, feeling as though I’d just been run through by a locomotive. I felt a wave of memories crashing towards me, slamming through my consciousness in a split second that seemed to last much longer. All at once, feelings long buried began to rise, from my toes steadily on up to the top of my head until I was immersed. Ache, longing, joy, sadness. It all became as fresh as it was ten years ago.
Ten years? I pondered. Had it really been that long. Was youth that far off? Had a decade really slipped by since I’d laid eyes on him?
Shaking my head in an attempt to reestablish order, I realized I had been standing in the middle of the busy corridor for a few moments, receiving several glances from wondering co-workers. Clearing my throat and gripping the files I clutched even tighter, I made a beeline for my office door, hoping that his gaze wouldn’t travel down the hall to meet me.
Once in the safety of my office, I shut the door and leaned against it, my body suddenly feeling heavy and sluggish. Blinking my eyes, I stubbornly willed whatever tears dare form to keep at bay. There were to be no tears shed today. No signs of weakness. I was powerful, in control, not prone to feminine outbursts. At least that’s what I maintained to myself and the rest of the world.
What was he doing here? How long would I have to hide in my office? Where had he been these last ten years? Was he married? Were there children? Did he ever stop to think of me the way I sometimes did of him, in those lonely moments late at night when my mind couldn’t help but float to darker territory?
The image of him was fixed in my mind now, crystal clear though I’d only seen him a mere moment. He looked good. Older, but not aged. No longer a cute teenaged boy with sparkling eyes, but rather a tall and sturdy man, now broad and strong and undeniably attractive. He’d traded a basketball uniform for a corporate one, and I couldn’t have imagined that he’d look so good in a suit.
Frustrated, I stomped my foot and marched over to my desk, piling the files on top with a huff. This was not supposed to be happening. Today was supposed to be about my boss stroking my ego and climbing the corporate ladder. I had not planned on feeling frazzled and vulnerable on this particular day. His presence was raining on my parade.
Sighing, I slid into my chair, crossing my legs and smoothing my skirt absent mindedly. My gaze fell to the bottom drawer of my desk. Reluctantly, I slid the drawer open, and reached my hand to the very bottom of the very back, underneath five year’s worth of old files. My fingers brushed against the small velvety box hidden deep from my view but never far away from my thoughts.
I considered pulling it out, and staring at it as I sometimes did, though these occurrences were becoming more rare. I was always aware of its presence there at the bottom of that drawer. I thought of it every night when I locked my desk, and every night, there was the fleeting temptation to take it out, to take it home, to keep it safe. But for some reason, I wanted it to stay there in the desk. It was a symbol, the only token I kept to remind me of the life I didn’t have, the life I didn’t choose. Once or twice I’d considered selling it, even giving it back to him, though he’d refused to take it back ten years ago. But I knew I couldn’t let it go. It would never be on my finger, but it could stay there, in my desk, a reminder that there had been a time in my life when I’d weighed the opportunities, and had chosen this. This was supposed to be what I wanted. But that ring in my desk haunted my memory, making me sometimes wonder about how different things would be if I had said yes to him all those years ago.
A gentle knock at my door spurred me to quickly shut the drawer. A colleague poked her head in my office with a bright smile and a cheery hello. I returned it, hoping I didn’t look as shaken as I felt.
“Just wanted to make sure you remembered the meeting this morning.” she said. I had forgotten, but swallowed and answered with a “Yes, of course.” Her brow furrowed, and I was sure she noticed how strange I felt. “You okay?” she queried, and I suddenly knew I didn’t want anyone to know what was on my mind. I had an image to protect. I shook my head and smiled. “Everything’s fine, thank you.” The answer seemed to appease her, for she left the office, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her. I stood and took a deep breath. I had to get a hold of myself before I left my office. I almost panicked at the thought of having to walk through the halls to get to the meeting. I didn’t want to chance seeing him again, or him seeing me, but I had no choice but to head out.
Gathering my paperwork and my courage, I straightened my back and left my office. I walked quickly through the halls, my heels click clacking in what seemed to be an oddly loud tone, and I wondered if anyone else noticed. I kept my gaze down for fear that any eyes I locked with could be his. Breathing a sigh of relief, I made it to the conference room with no incident. Now I could get lost in this meeting and perhaps being able to focus on work would bring my mind back to the familiar order I craved.
I took my seat at the large oval table around which my colleagues were already gathering. I went about arranging my files, mentally preparing answers to the questions I’d be asked during the meeting, organizing my thoughts. The room buzzed with light conversation, surface office banter of little value, like the weather or the current condition of the stock market. Once I had arranged my folders to my satisfaction, I sat back in my chair and lifted my gaze to the front of the table where my boss sat.
My heart flip flopped again when I saw him, sitting there, chatting with my boss at the head of the table. I wanted to faint. I wanted to run from the room. Fake an illness, grab my coat and rush home as fast as I could. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so frantic.
He looked at me, and as quickly as possible, I looked away, not wanting to meet those blue eyes. I felt his gaze stay on me for a few moments. Perhaps he felt the same way I did. Unprepared, unprotected, and suddenly able to think of little else. Had he known I would be here? Had he expected to see me today? I mustered the will to glance back at him, and was both relieved and disappointed that he was no longer looking at me. Though I knew from his countenance that he was shaken now as well.
Good, I thought. Why should I be the only one flustered?
The meeting was rather blurry for me. My boss introduced him, and I gathered that he was recently hired as one of the lead accountants for the company and had prepared this season’s book budgets. Fabulous, I thought. It was bad enough to see him today, but to know he worked for the same company as I was a blow. Thankfully, the accountants mostly worked from the office on the south side of the city. I wouldn’t have to see him every day.
The sound of my name shook me from my thoughts, and I turned to the voice, that of my boss, and blinked several times. “Yes, sir.” I managed, noting the hinge in my own voice.
“Your presentation?” He prompted.
“Yes, of course.” I gulped and looked down at the four colorful folders in front of me, for a fraction of a second losing all perspective of what was in those folders or what I was supposed to talk about. Authors. It hit me. I was supposed to present four new authors, each with lengthy manuscripts that were to be assigned to the editors at the table. Right.
So with as much dignity as I could muster, and as little stuttering as possible, I made my presentation, hoping that my guise of having it all together was convincing to the colleagues at the table, especially the one whose gaze I made every effort to avoid.
An hour later, the chorus of growling stomachs prompted the end of the meeting as it was well past noon. I had never been so thankful to get out of the conference room. Rushing to my office to drop off my files, I grabbed my coat and purse and headed to the elevator as fast as I could. I pressed the down button a few more times than necessary and shifted my weight impatiently as I waited for the doors to open. When they did, a flock of people returning from their breaks flooded from the elevator, and I waded through them to enter. Just as I pressed the button for the first floor, he hurried into the elevator as the doors began to close.
I stood there, speechless, staring awkwardly at him for a second. Ten years of absence had done nothing to shake the hold he had on me, and I was suddenly very aware of my senses. My eyes greedily drank him in, my nose breathed in the familiar spicy scent of his aftershave, and my fingers suddenly longed to touch his face. I gripped my hand into a fist to prevent such a thing from happening.
“Hello.” he said, the elevator doors now shut, blocking us off from the rest of the world, making us alone. His tone was gentle, his voice deeper than I remembered. He smiled at me, and I self consciously tucked my hair behind my ear. I managed a soft “hi”, and that was all I could gather at the moment. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air.
“I had no idea you worked here.” He announced, and I wasn’t sure if the revelation of my job pleased him or startled him.
“I...I didn’t realize you had been hired either.”
He nodded, gripping his briefcase in one hand and shoving the other in his pocket. “Small world.”
Silence returned.
I found myself counting the seconds as I watched the floor numbers decrease as we descended down the nine floors to the ground. I couldn’t wait to be out of this elevator. If I had thought the long meeting was bad, being confined like this was almost more than I could handle.
Just as the car passed the third floor, a sudden jolt startled us both and nearly knocked me off my feet. The elevator had suddenly stopped, suspended between floors. Warmth flooded over me when I realized he had placed his hand at the small of my back to steady me. He almost looked embarrassed as he removed his hand from it’s instinctive place of protection.
I watched as he pressed a few buttons, but the elevator car did not budge. With a sigh, he used the emergency phone to call the front desk. I listened to the fragmented conversation. “Yes, we’re stuck in the north entrance elevator....okay....how long?....all right, thank you.” He replaced the receiver. “They’re working on it. Said it could be a few minutes.”
This was going from bad to worse. I wondered how I’d ever survive being trapped in an elevator with this man that I was all at once intimidated by and overwhelmingly attracted to.
For several moments, neither of us spoke, nor looked at each other. I felt that even if I tried to say anything tears might arise, or I might just start laughing hysterically at the situation. This was so not how I saw my day going.
“Well,” he finally announced. “Might as well make ourselves comfortable.” He proceeded to shrug out of his suit jacket and lay it neatly on the floor. Rolling his shirt sleeves was the next action, and I tried not to fix my gaze on his muscular forearms. Finally, he loosened his silk tie and turned to me. Images flashed through my head and I couldn’t shake the desire to suddenly pin him against the wall and kiss him.
Stop it, I told myself. I was only going to get myself hurt or in trouble if I allowed thoughts like that to linger.
“Why don’t we have a seat. Catch up.” He motioned toward the back wall of the elevator. As modestly as I could, I lowered myself to the floor beside him, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks when I felt his eyes on me as I straightened my pencil skirt so it covered my knees. I couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that he was checking me out.
If he thought I was going to steer this conversation, he was mistaken. I waited silently for him to speak again. It was strange being silent with him. Even though the past ten years had been nothing but silence between us, when we were together, conversation always came easily for us. It had never been awkward or forced like it was now. Now we could hardly string two sentences together.
“So...how have you been?” He finally asked.
“Good.” I offered. “You?”
“Good.” He said with a nod. “Very good.”
After a few more moments, I blurted, “Are you married?” I inwardly chastised myself. Why on earth would I ask that first? Just because it was all I could think about didn’t mean I wanted him to know that.
“No, I’m not married. You?”
I couldn’t help but be relieved. If I couldn’t have him, no other woman should. “No.” I answered softly.
I felt him looking at me, taking me in. “You look good.”
To my irritation, I blushed again. “Thanks. You too.” Really, really good, I thought to myself.
“I’m kind of surprised to see you here.” He said. “I thought you’d be a famous musician by now.”
I chuckled. “Those were the dreams of youth. Reality beckoned me into publishing.” I picked nonexistent lint from my skirt. “And you...why aren’t you somewhere fighting fires and being a hero?”
“You mean accountants aren’t heroes?” I laughed again. He was beginning to put me at ease. “I guess reality got me too. It’s easier to pay the mortgage when I’m making good money.”
“How is your family?” I asked.
“They’re doing well. My brother got married a few years back. Has a baby girl now. We spoil her rotten.”
“I’m sure. I have two nephews myself. I know how that goes.”
The quiet little elevator was getting warm, either from lack of ventilation or the fact that I felt like a teenager again with palms sweating nervously. How strange that this man that was once such a part of myself should now cause such unwarranted physical discomfort. When he spoke again, his voice was softer.
“I’ve often thought of you through the years...You don’t know how often I wanted to call you.”
“Same here...” I returned. “I just wasn’t sure you wanted to hear from me...after....after the way things ended.”
Don’t go there, I warned myself. Don’t make this personal. Don’t let him know you’re weak.
He locked his blue eyes with mine. “Of course I would have wanted to hear from you.” He said sincerely. He looked as though he wanted to say more, but thought better of it. Finally, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Sorry for the way things happened. Sorry that I put you in such a difficult position back then.”
I found myself shaking my head as he spoke. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who put myself in the position of having to make a choice. I’m sorry I hurt you...really, I am.”
So much for not getting personal. In a matter of moments, we’d both spilled our guts.
“Do you ever wonder how things might have turned out if we'd gone through with the wedding?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.
All the time. Every day. Every night. All the moments in between.
“Sometimes.” I answered.
“Do you...ever wish things were different?”
“I don’t know. I love my job. I love being this career woman, climbing the ranks, working in a field I enjoy.” I answered with a shrug.
“But...” he began, searching for the right words. “But why did you feel like you had to choose between a career and me?”
I felt my eyes moisten as I looked into his eyes. Even after ten years, was it possible that this wound was still so fresh for us?
“Because...” I answered. “People can’t have it all.”
He didn’t seem satisfied by my response. He rose to his feet, shuffling to the other wall, keeping his back to me as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He kept his back to me when he spoke.
“I don’t know. As crazy as this sounds...I can’t believe I’m saying this...but, I think I’m still in love with you.”
The words hung in the air momentarily. I didn’t know what to say.
He continued. “I mean, I’ve tried for ten years to forget you. To accept defeat. To find someone else.” He turned to me then, and I saw a strange vulnerability in his eyes. “But it’s always you. I can’t escape it. I’m sorry to even say this, or to interrupt your life this way, but...but it will always be you.”
I remained silent, looking intently at my feet, my cheeks burning and tears threatening to fall. He shook his head and sat back down beside me.
“Well, that was probably awkward for you.” he mumbled sarcastically.
“No...” I gently admonished. “No, it’s okay.” I patted his hand. “I’m glad you can still be so honest with me, after all this time.”
He squeezed my hand and smiled sheepishly. I did not pull away. How familiar that hand was. It felt the same as it did back then, rough and smooth all at the same time, and able to envelop my hand warmly.
We were sitting so close now our shoulders touched. I looked up and found his face only inches from mine. Oh, to take those lips captive in mine, to release a decade of wondering, of regret, of wishing I could turn back time and change everything. I still loved him too. I had always known it. But by the time I allowed myself to accept it, too much time had passed. I had hurt him, and I had no right to pursue him after all I’d done. Even when I knew it had been a mistake to let him go, I refused to call him. I buried myself in my job, desperately trying to find satisfaction in a salary and title. But I knew I wasn’t satisfied. I could never be satisfied. Because the only thing to bring satisfaction I’d let slip through my fingers and I no longer deserved.
But knowing all of that didn’t make it any easier to resist the feelings coursing through me.
“Yes.” I whispered to him. “Yes, I wish things were different.”
Looking back at me, I felt him lean closer. Lips just inches from mine. So close, I could feel the heat of his breath.
Another sudden jolt, and the elevator was moving again. We smiled at each other, and he stood, offering me a hand as I got to my feet. Without a word he handed me my coat and purse from the floor, then slid his arms into his jacket and picked up his briefcase.
“It was good to see you again.” I said softly. “I...I look forward to working with you.”
What a stupid thing to say, I thought to myself. I really was totally useless in these situations.
Ever so briefly, he lifted his hand and brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers, an act so tender and so intimate I fought to keep steady on my feet. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t want to let this moment go, but didn’t know how to make time stand still.
The elevator doors opened, and I made myself slowly shuffle out. I felt him follow me and we walked silently to the revolving doors. Before I could exit, he tugged on my sleeve, stopping me.
“Hey...how ‘bout we get some lunch. We have a lot to catch up on.”
I smiled up at him. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
*******************
With a jolt, I sit up in my bed, wearily rubbing my eyes and wondering at my strange dream. I glance over at my sleeping husband, his rhythmic breathing calmly reaching my ears. Across the hall, I hear the same sounds of sleep coming from my children. Relaxing, I nestle back down in my pillows, breathing a sigh of contentment as I fall back to sleep.
I have everything I want.
It started out as such a good day. My favorite suit fresh from the cleaners. My hair laying exactly right. No traffic on the freeway. Annoying receptionist out sick. My out-box actually more full than my in-box. Not to mention the lavish praise from my boss on my latest project. Nothing like a pat on the back for a job well done to boost the ego and spirits. I probably looked ridiculous, walking back to my office with a big grin on my face, my heels happily tapping on the tiled floor. I was well on my way to that promotion I wanted so dearly. Nothing could ruin this day.
And then I saw him.
Had I not been so well practiced in wearing high heels I probably would have landed on my backside right then, files flying from my grip and floating down around me as I sat dumbfounded with mouth agape. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. But I did stop in my tracks, feeling as though I’d just been run through by a locomotive. I felt a wave of memories crashing towards me, slamming through my consciousness in a split second that seemed to last much longer. All at once, feelings long buried began to rise, from my toes steadily on up to the top of my head until I was immersed. Ache, longing, joy, sadness. It all became as fresh as it was ten years ago.
Ten years? I pondered. Had it really been that long. Was youth that far off? Had a decade really slipped by since I’d laid eyes on him?
Shaking my head in an attempt to reestablish order, I realized I had been standing in the middle of the busy corridor for a few moments, receiving several glances from wondering co-workers. Clearing my throat and gripping the files I clutched even tighter, I made a beeline for my office door, hoping that his gaze wouldn’t travel down the hall to meet me.
Once in the safety of my office, I shut the door and leaned against it, my body suddenly feeling heavy and sluggish. Blinking my eyes, I stubbornly willed whatever tears dare form to keep at bay. There were to be no tears shed today. No signs of weakness. I was powerful, in control, not prone to feminine outbursts. At least that’s what I maintained to myself and the rest of the world.
What was he doing here? How long would I have to hide in my office? Where had he been these last ten years? Was he married? Were there children? Did he ever stop to think of me the way I sometimes did of him, in those lonely moments late at night when my mind couldn’t help but float to darker territory?
The image of him was fixed in my mind now, crystal clear though I’d only seen him a mere moment. He looked good. Older, but not aged. No longer a cute teenaged boy with sparkling eyes, but rather a tall and sturdy man, now broad and strong and undeniably attractive. He’d traded a basketball uniform for a corporate one, and I couldn’t have imagined that he’d look so good in a suit.
Frustrated, I stomped my foot and marched over to my desk, piling the files on top with a huff. This was not supposed to be happening. Today was supposed to be about my boss stroking my ego and climbing the corporate ladder. I had not planned on feeling frazzled and vulnerable on this particular day. His presence was raining on my parade.
Sighing, I slid into my chair, crossing my legs and smoothing my skirt absent mindedly. My gaze fell to the bottom drawer of my desk. Reluctantly, I slid the drawer open, and reached my hand to the very bottom of the very back, underneath five year’s worth of old files. My fingers brushed against the small velvety box hidden deep from my view but never far away from my thoughts.
I considered pulling it out, and staring at it as I sometimes did, though these occurrences were becoming more rare. I was always aware of its presence there at the bottom of that drawer. I thought of it every night when I locked my desk, and every night, there was the fleeting temptation to take it out, to take it home, to keep it safe. But for some reason, I wanted it to stay there in the desk. It was a symbol, the only token I kept to remind me of the life I didn’t have, the life I didn’t choose. Once or twice I’d considered selling it, even giving it back to him, though he’d refused to take it back ten years ago. But I knew I couldn’t let it go. It would never be on my finger, but it could stay there, in my desk, a reminder that there had been a time in my life when I’d weighed the opportunities, and had chosen this. This was supposed to be what I wanted. But that ring in my desk haunted my memory, making me sometimes wonder about how different things would be if I had said yes to him all those years ago.
A gentle knock at my door spurred me to quickly shut the drawer. A colleague poked her head in my office with a bright smile and a cheery hello. I returned it, hoping I didn’t look as shaken as I felt.
“Just wanted to make sure you remembered the meeting this morning.” she said. I had forgotten, but swallowed and answered with a “Yes, of course.” Her brow furrowed, and I was sure she noticed how strange I felt. “You okay?” she queried, and I suddenly knew I didn’t want anyone to know what was on my mind. I had an image to protect. I shook my head and smiled. “Everything’s fine, thank you.” The answer seemed to appease her, for she left the office, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her. I stood and took a deep breath. I had to get a hold of myself before I left my office. I almost panicked at the thought of having to walk through the halls to get to the meeting. I didn’t want to chance seeing him again, or him seeing me, but I had no choice but to head out.
Gathering my paperwork and my courage, I straightened my back and left my office. I walked quickly through the halls, my heels click clacking in what seemed to be an oddly loud tone, and I wondered if anyone else noticed. I kept my gaze down for fear that any eyes I locked with could be his. Breathing a sigh of relief, I made it to the conference room with no incident. Now I could get lost in this meeting and perhaps being able to focus on work would bring my mind back to the familiar order I craved.
I took my seat at the large oval table around which my colleagues were already gathering. I went about arranging my files, mentally preparing answers to the questions I’d be asked during the meeting, organizing my thoughts. The room buzzed with light conversation, surface office banter of little value, like the weather or the current condition of the stock market. Once I had arranged my folders to my satisfaction, I sat back in my chair and lifted my gaze to the front of the table where my boss sat.
My heart flip flopped again when I saw him, sitting there, chatting with my boss at the head of the table. I wanted to faint. I wanted to run from the room. Fake an illness, grab my coat and rush home as fast as I could. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so frantic.
He looked at me, and as quickly as possible, I looked away, not wanting to meet those blue eyes. I felt his gaze stay on me for a few moments. Perhaps he felt the same way I did. Unprepared, unprotected, and suddenly able to think of little else. Had he known I would be here? Had he expected to see me today? I mustered the will to glance back at him, and was both relieved and disappointed that he was no longer looking at me. Though I knew from his countenance that he was shaken now as well.
Good, I thought. Why should I be the only one flustered?
The meeting was rather blurry for me. My boss introduced him, and I gathered that he was recently hired as one of the lead accountants for the company and had prepared this season’s book budgets. Fabulous, I thought. It was bad enough to see him today, but to know he worked for the same company as I was a blow. Thankfully, the accountants mostly worked from the office on the south side of the city. I wouldn’t have to see him every day.
The sound of my name shook me from my thoughts, and I turned to the voice, that of my boss, and blinked several times. “Yes, sir.” I managed, noting the hinge in my own voice.
“Your presentation?” He prompted.
“Yes, of course.” I gulped and looked down at the four colorful folders in front of me, for a fraction of a second losing all perspective of what was in those folders or what I was supposed to talk about. Authors. It hit me. I was supposed to present four new authors, each with lengthy manuscripts that were to be assigned to the editors at the table. Right.
So with as much dignity as I could muster, and as little stuttering as possible, I made my presentation, hoping that my guise of having it all together was convincing to the colleagues at the table, especially the one whose gaze I made every effort to avoid.
An hour later, the chorus of growling stomachs prompted the end of the meeting as it was well past noon. I had never been so thankful to get out of the conference room. Rushing to my office to drop off my files, I grabbed my coat and purse and headed to the elevator as fast as I could. I pressed the down button a few more times than necessary and shifted my weight impatiently as I waited for the doors to open. When they did, a flock of people returning from their breaks flooded from the elevator, and I waded through them to enter. Just as I pressed the button for the first floor, he hurried into the elevator as the doors began to close.
I stood there, speechless, staring awkwardly at him for a second. Ten years of absence had done nothing to shake the hold he had on me, and I was suddenly very aware of my senses. My eyes greedily drank him in, my nose breathed in the familiar spicy scent of his aftershave, and my fingers suddenly longed to touch his face. I gripped my hand into a fist to prevent such a thing from happening.
“Hello.” he said, the elevator doors now shut, blocking us off from the rest of the world, making us alone. His tone was gentle, his voice deeper than I remembered. He smiled at me, and I self consciously tucked my hair behind my ear. I managed a soft “hi”, and that was all I could gather at the moment. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air.
“I had no idea you worked here.” He announced, and I wasn’t sure if the revelation of my job pleased him or startled him.
“I...I didn’t realize you had been hired either.”
He nodded, gripping his briefcase in one hand and shoving the other in his pocket. “Small world.”
Silence returned.
I found myself counting the seconds as I watched the floor numbers decrease as we descended down the nine floors to the ground. I couldn’t wait to be out of this elevator. If I had thought the long meeting was bad, being confined like this was almost more than I could handle.
Just as the car passed the third floor, a sudden jolt startled us both and nearly knocked me off my feet. The elevator had suddenly stopped, suspended between floors. Warmth flooded over me when I realized he had placed his hand at the small of my back to steady me. He almost looked embarrassed as he removed his hand from it’s instinctive place of protection.
I watched as he pressed a few buttons, but the elevator car did not budge. With a sigh, he used the emergency phone to call the front desk. I listened to the fragmented conversation. “Yes, we’re stuck in the north entrance elevator....okay....how long?....all right, thank you.” He replaced the receiver. “They’re working on it. Said it could be a few minutes.”
This was going from bad to worse. I wondered how I’d ever survive being trapped in an elevator with this man that I was all at once intimidated by and overwhelmingly attracted to.
For several moments, neither of us spoke, nor looked at each other. I felt that even if I tried to say anything tears might arise, or I might just start laughing hysterically at the situation. This was so not how I saw my day going.
“Well,” he finally announced. “Might as well make ourselves comfortable.” He proceeded to shrug out of his suit jacket and lay it neatly on the floor. Rolling his shirt sleeves was the next action, and I tried not to fix my gaze on his muscular forearms. Finally, he loosened his silk tie and turned to me. Images flashed through my head and I couldn’t shake the desire to suddenly pin him against the wall and kiss him.
Stop it, I told myself. I was only going to get myself hurt or in trouble if I allowed thoughts like that to linger.
“Why don’t we have a seat. Catch up.” He motioned toward the back wall of the elevator. As modestly as I could, I lowered myself to the floor beside him, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks when I felt his eyes on me as I straightened my pencil skirt so it covered my knees. I couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that he was checking me out.
If he thought I was going to steer this conversation, he was mistaken. I waited silently for him to speak again. It was strange being silent with him. Even though the past ten years had been nothing but silence between us, when we were together, conversation always came easily for us. It had never been awkward or forced like it was now. Now we could hardly string two sentences together.
“So...how have you been?” He finally asked.
“Good.” I offered. “You?”
“Good.” He said with a nod. “Very good.”
After a few more moments, I blurted, “Are you married?” I inwardly chastised myself. Why on earth would I ask that first? Just because it was all I could think about didn’t mean I wanted him to know that.
“No, I’m not married. You?”
I couldn’t help but be relieved. If I couldn’t have him, no other woman should. “No.” I answered softly.
I felt him looking at me, taking me in. “You look good.”
To my irritation, I blushed again. “Thanks. You too.” Really, really good, I thought to myself.
“I’m kind of surprised to see you here.” He said. “I thought you’d be a famous musician by now.”
I chuckled. “Those were the dreams of youth. Reality beckoned me into publishing.” I picked nonexistent lint from my skirt. “And you...why aren’t you somewhere fighting fires and being a hero?”
“You mean accountants aren’t heroes?” I laughed again. He was beginning to put me at ease. “I guess reality got me too. It’s easier to pay the mortgage when I’m making good money.”
“How is your family?” I asked.
“They’re doing well. My brother got married a few years back. Has a baby girl now. We spoil her rotten.”
“I’m sure. I have two nephews myself. I know how that goes.”
The quiet little elevator was getting warm, either from lack of ventilation or the fact that I felt like a teenager again with palms sweating nervously. How strange that this man that was once such a part of myself should now cause such unwarranted physical discomfort. When he spoke again, his voice was softer.
“I’ve often thought of you through the years...You don’t know how often I wanted to call you.”
“Same here...” I returned. “I just wasn’t sure you wanted to hear from me...after....after the way things ended.”
Don’t go there, I warned myself. Don’t make this personal. Don’t let him know you’re weak.
He locked his blue eyes with mine. “Of course I would have wanted to hear from you.” He said sincerely. He looked as though he wanted to say more, but thought better of it. Finally, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Sorry for the way things happened. Sorry that I put you in such a difficult position back then.”
I found myself shaking my head as he spoke. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who put myself in the position of having to make a choice. I’m sorry I hurt you...really, I am.”
So much for not getting personal. In a matter of moments, we’d both spilled our guts.
“Do you ever wonder how things might have turned out if we'd gone through with the wedding?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.
All the time. Every day. Every night. All the moments in between.
“Sometimes.” I answered.
“Do you...ever wish things were different?”
“I don’t know. I love my job. I love being this career woman, climbing the ranks, working in a field I enjoy.” I answered with a shrug.
“But...” he began, searching for the right words. “But why did you feel like you had to choose between a career and me?”
I felt my eyes moisten as I looked into his eyes. Even after ten years, was it possible that this wound was still so fresh for us?
“Because...” I answered. “People can’t have it all.”
He didn’t seem satisfied by my response. He rose to his feet, shuffling to the other wall, keeping his back to me as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He kept his back to me when he spoke.
“I don’t know. As crazy as this sounds...I can’t believe I’m saying this...but, I think I’m still in love with you.”
The words hung in the air momentarily. I didn’t know what to say.
He continued. “I mean, I’ve tried for ten years to forget you. To accept defeat. To find someone else.” He turned to me then, and I saw a strange vulnerability in his eyes. “But it’s always you. I can’t escape it. I’m sorry to even say this, or to interrupt your life this way, but...but it will always be you.”
I remained silent, looking intently at my feet, my cheeks burning and tears threatening to fall. He shook his head and sat back down beside me.
“Well, that was probably awkward for you.” he mumbled sarcastically.
“No...” I gently admonished. “No, it’s okay.” I patted his hand. “I’m glad you can still be so honest with me, after all this time.”
He squeezed my hand and smiled sheepishly. I did not pull away. How familiar that hand was. It felt the same as it did back then, rough and smooth all at the same time, and able to envelop my hand warmly.
We were sitting so close now our shoulders touched. I looked up and found his face only inches from mine. Oh, to take those lips captive in mine, to release a decade of wondering, of regret, of wishing I could turn back time and change everything. I still loved him too. I had always known it. But by the time I allowed myself to accept it, too much time had passed. I had hurt him, and I had no right to pursue him after all I’d done. Even when I knew it had been a mistake to let him go, I refused to call him. I buried myself in my job, desperately trying to find satisfaction in a salary and title. But I knew I wasn’t satisfied. I could never be satisfied. Because the only thing to bring satisfaction I’d let slip through my fingers and I no longer deserved.
But knowing all of that didn’t make it any easier to resist the feelings coursing through me.
“Yes.” I whispered to him. “Yes, I wish things were different.”
Looking back at me, I felt him lean closer. Lips just inches from mine. So close, I could feel the heat of his breath.
Another sudden jolt, and the elevator was moving again. We smiled at each other, and he stood, offering me a hand as I got to my feet. Without a word he handed me my coat and purse from the floor, then slid his arms into his jacket and picked up his briefcase.
“It was good to see you again.” I said softly. “I...I look forward to working with you.”
What a stupid thing to say, I thought to myself. I really was totally useless in these situations.
Ever so briefly, he lifted his hand and brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers, an act so tender and so intimate I fought to keep steady on my feet. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t want to let this moment go, but didn’t know how to make time stand still.
The elevator doors opened, and I made myself slowly shuffle out. I felt him follow me and we walked silently to the revolving doors. Before I could exit, he tugged on my sleeve, stopping me.
“Hey...how ‘bout we get some lunch. We have a lot to catch up on.”
I smiled up at him. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
*******************
With a jolt, I sit up in my bed, wearily rubbing my eyes and wondering at my strange dream. I glance over at my sleeping husband, his rhythmic breathing calmly reaching my ears. Across the hall, I hear the same sounds of sleep coming from my children. Relaxing, I nestle back down in my pillows, breathing a sigh of contentment as I fall back to sleep.
I have everything I want.
Comments