by Leanne Davis
I knew he and Mom were planning to visit. I never imagined having sex with Devon before then, and now I have to deal with having all of them in the same office, on the same day. I will have to suffer through the same uncomfortable dread. I’d rather hide in my bed all day and watch old movies or eat ice cream or just sleep. But I can’t do that. I have to be visibly there. If I fail to show up, it will make everything from here on out ten times harder than it needs to be. I have to face this no matter what. If I can keep it simple and normal, I hope to avoid turning it into something huge and overinflated.
I don’t dare let something so uncomfortable ruin either of our futures here. There is no choice. Devon and I work together, and I can’t let anything change that. If only I’d taken a moment to consider it, I’d have realized Devon was not ready for a real relationship. And sharing one night and one morning together isn’t worth risking our jobs here, not to mention our friendship, for a cheap night of sex. Sure, it might have been what I wanted more than anything, but not with those stakes. Not like another night, another pussy. That is the essence of Devon’s life.
I get there early. Stupid early. I need the extra time to put on my fake smile and set my attitude in place. I have to keep the threat of my tears deep. It was just anonymous sex. I’ve done it before. I’d do it again. Sex before Devon was never necessary or urgent to me, mostly because I was always so in love with him, never mind my current sex partner. Sure, I could have enjoyed the physical pleasure of the act and ultimate release, but something in my brain said No! Don’t do it. Somehow, I limited my enjoyment because I always wanted Devon. It would be nice if I could stop doing that. I’m growing tired of living for a stupid fantasy.
Yeah, sex felt better with Devon because I do love him. But I must treat it like all the other times I’ve had sex. Something easily forgettable and next to unimportant. Right? No choice, I simply have to now.
I have my own office. The staff consists of five people: a receptionist, an office assistant, who oversees everything, a bookkeeper, and us. Devon supervises the sales and purchase orders as well as quality control. I oversee the warehouse workers, safety issues, supplies, and the running of the entire office. We both regularly meet with any new or potential clients.
We converted one end of the warehouse into bright, pleasant offices. Featuring white walls with blonde wood casing, my office has a large, U-shaped desk. I stare at my computer as I glance out the window. The Columbia River flows below me. Devon’s office is a mirror reflection of mine, and right next door, so he can enjoy the view of the river, too.
I hang my coat and sit in my chair to warm my computer up. Pouring my morning coffee, I take some comfort in the usual Monday morning routine. Flipping through emails and correspondences, I send out replies and pay some invoices, which I also copy and forward to the bookkeeper. I print out all the stuff that needs filing and make a neat stack for the office administrator. After reviewing the day’s agenda, I wonder what my dad will have to say. My parents are planning to arrive about noon. Luckily, they are staying in a hotel room, so I am not responsible for entertaining them. My heart isn’t in it at all.
Then I hear the familiar footsteps of Devon. This is the moment I usually love to anticipate: when he walks into the office. He always stops at the entrance, which is a central meeting area. A couch, coffee table, and side chair are always there. There is also a coffee bar and mini-fridge and a coat tree. Devon stops to hang up his coat and grab a coffee. The first to arrive is usually the one who makes the coffee. Stopping at my doorway, he usually ducks his head inside as he knocks on the door frame. Standing there, leaning against the doorframe, he often asks me about my weekend or the day or night, depending on our last interaction.
That’s how close we are and how much time we spend together. Now? We’ve seen each other’s genitals up close and personal—how do we come back from that?
Especially when one of us wanted it so much more than the other? It is quite obvious who wanted what from whom.
He hesitates outside my door. I can sense him staring in as he stands a few feet back from my doorway. My back is turned. I type furiously. I save the inventory list I need to add to a spreadsheet. My whole intent is to look crazy busy when he gets here. I could be concentrating so hard that I don’t turn around and it wouldn’t be the least bit weird. So what if he knows better? Whatever.
He finally goes into his office, and I all but slump over my keyboard. One hurdle down. Now there are only about a hundred more to clear before it gets any easier.
I work diligently, glad when a problem pops up from the warehouse about a misplaced order. It keeps me engaged and on the phone, a big advantage for both of us. I can’t take the time to talk or even pause for a short break. Then I spot my dad. He’s here already. Wonderful. Now I can’t avoid leaving the sanctuary of my office. Sucking in a deep breath, I scoot back from my desk and adjust my trousers. We don’t dress up in our office. My dad does, of course, because he’s at the corporate offices. We’re just a branch so we all wear business casual. My dad’s preference for wearing precisely tailored suits has never waned, even in semi-retirement. Nothing new there. I smile and a surge of comfortable images fill my brain as he enters the atrium of our little office and lights up when he sees me.
“Claudia!” He gives me a bear hug. No matter how often I tell him to be professional at work, he always ends up hugging me. Especially after several weeks of separation. He can’t muffle the glee in his voice. He really likes me as a person. All of my sisters, actually. He oscillates between being a stern disciplinarian to the fun, understanding father. He encourages all three of us to make our own decisions and stick to them. Maybe that’s why he’s so easy to be around. He doesn’t insist on treating us like little girls or fairy princesses, much less elevating us with artificial pedestals.
He leans back and smiles down at me. His blonde hair is rimmed in gray at sixty-six years old. Tall and rather trim, he’s undeniably a dashing man for any age. “Hey, Dad…”
“How is everything?”
“Good. Fine. Busy.” Could I sound more generic? My entire body stiffens with awareness when Devon appears at his doorway and leans against it. He is watching us. No doubt, gauging my reactions and behavior. I hold in my gut and mentally fortify my brain and heart. Do this. Act natural. Be fake and do whatever you have to in order to move the fuck past this awkward situation. I plaster on a practiced smile and turn when my dad does.
I nearly collapse when I catch a glimpse of Devon’s unsure expression. He almost looks like little boy, very much confused. He also smiles when my dad addresses him.
“Hey, Devon. How are you?”
“Good. Busy like Claudia said.”
Busy? Sure. Right! Busy fucking women he shouldn’t be. I grind my teeth. No. I’m not that kind of woman. I’m not bitter or angry. I adamantly refuse to become that horrible cliché: the scorned, sarcastic bitch who turns nasty and shrewish after the sex fails to clinch the deal. No. Nope. Not going to do it. Not even venturing anywhere near there.
Devon might as well say, “Ah, shucks” by the way he is acting. Uncomfortable? D’ya think? I want to slap him and demand how dare he? Acting all sorry and contrite because he feels unsure around me now? As if he could hurt me. Even if he could, he doesn’t know that so he shouldn’t assume it.
This makes it harder, and I strain to keep my eyes from bugging out of my face. How dare he regret what happened. So he’s sorry. Which is why he is so unsure of how to treat me now. Does he think I’m so heartbroken that I could get hysterical at work? Or demand that he give me all of his attention?
He’s shuffling his feet and rubbing his palms together while he rambles on with more nonsense to my dad. The whooshing in my ears prevents me from fully hearing them. I feel overheated and very determined to prevail in the end.
Fuck him. My anger right now is epic, but he’ll NEVER know that. I’d rather go to my grave with that stupid, innocent, friendly smile I always plas
ter on my face. I’ll be better off if I do. I’ll get over him faster. He’ll become the dust on my heels and never an obstacle or issue that keeps me from living my life to the fullest. No. For too long he’s had that power over me. I gave it to him when he doesn’t even deserve it. He never did deserve it, I now realize.
Dad rubs his hands together. “So, should we get started? Whose office first?”
I rush to walk past Dad. “Mine,” I smile. I’m taking control. And being fucking fabulous. Starting now. At this moment. As of today. Somehow, I will shine like the sun. But how exactly? I don’t know yet. I refuse to keep waiting around for Devon Willapana. The next decade will not be like the last. The past eighteen months of his life were centered on exacting revenge. He targeted the two people who never had a clue about his intent or cared what he did or why. They enjoyed their lives without pausing for him in any way. I will not become obsessive or be angry and petty toward Devon. I will not treat Devon the way he treats Damion either. I’ve watched how it eats away at Devon, carving out his emotions and leaving only the shell of the former boy. Devon was once a caring young man with a big heart and a healthy competitive streak. His ambition to succeed required a foundation established by class and with dignity. Now, that foundation has eroded and he just wants to hurt Ireena and his brother by rubbing their faces in it.
I won’t do that.
Best revenge is a life lived well? That’s all I’ve got. That’s all I can do. And besides, it fits my personality. I sit at my desk and suck in a deep breath for courage as I start the meeting. I guide my introduction to include the sales, purchase orders, quality control, and shipments. Devon starts to relax because I’m so on point. I don’t lose sight of my mission or anything else when it comes to work. He slowly loosens up and his previous fidgety actions finally end. As he starts to join in, he seems to suddenly remember that we are at work and his job is doing just that.
After work? I pick up my phone and dial my BFF’s number. Gail lives in town. “Okay. Set me up on that date.”
“What happened?” She’s the only one who knows about Devon.
“He didn’t even know the first name of the woman he had sex with Friday night. I stopped by to try to convince him to go to Dayshia’s party. I don’t need that crap in my life. I’m so over it.” I only wish I realized that, and how cold, inappropriate and offensive it became, before Saturday night. And definitely, before Sunday morning. But we live and learn. I refuse to beat myself up over it. And even though I’m not over him, I will be soon. That is my goal now. It is something I have longed for and if it means Devon must be relegated to a chapter from the past, so be it.
Gail squeals with delight. After declining to go on a blind date she wanted to set up for two years with a co-worker of hers, whom she swears is my perfect match, I finally relent. Crap. No, I mean, fine. The guy I work with is not my perfect match and he sure as shit wants to tell me that once and for all. This time, I am determined to get over him. I can’t wait to move past him and get the hell on with my life.
“When?”
“This weekend? If at all possible.”
“Done. I’ll set everything up. Oh, I can’t wait for you two to meet.”
I nod. Inside, I am hurting and raw but I also feel better. It’s a first step. Something I can control because it isn’t based on my stupid feelings. It’s not under Devon’s control either. It’s all mine. I haven’t given any other man the time of day for too long, and now it’s time to do that.
I finish work and prepare to have dinner with my parents. Mom walks into my office as the day ends, and I rise with relief as I fall into her arms. Mom is medium in height (but tall next to me) and reed thin, and she always has been. I’ve never been built like her, but she’s still my warmest, fuzziest, safest place to fall.
She frowns as she leans back, smoothing the hair off my face. “All is well?”
“All is perfectly fine. I asked Gail to introduce me to someone.”
Her eyes sparkle with curiosity. “You don’t need anyone in your life.”
“I want someone though.”
“Then I have no doubt you’ll have no trouble finding someone.” She smiles and makes me glad to spend the next several hours with them. We have a leisurely dinner and later on, drinks as we chat late into the night. After I drive them back to their hotel, we talk even longer in their room. Mom wants to meet tomorrow for lunch so we can walk along the river. It’s soothing to my soul when we chat about my home, my sisters, and my grandma. Mom fears that Grandma is a bit confused about things she used to be quite clear about, and she states her concern over that. Then we discuss their plans for retirement and my mom itemizes all the plans she has for Dad. She’s ten years younger than him and has a career in social work. She has devoted all of her working life (since her early twenties) to social work. She isn’t ready to retire quite yet, but she’s eager for Dad to relax and avoid stress while having more time to himself and his leisure.
The week is long and seems endless. I do an odd tap dance around Devon as I try to act like I’m not consciously avoiding him. I try my best to chat and laugh whenever I approach his office or run into him. I keep it light and innocuous as if everything is normal. I can’t let him sense or see my true discomfort. My stomach churns with raw nerves and the pain becomes so intense that at times, I can hardly eat. Which is great. Maybe I’ll actually lose some inches from this. But then again… no. I don’t need to lose weight. Not for him or anyone else. I’m just looking out for me, myself, and I from now on. I plan to triple down on my self-confidence as a business guru, branch manager, and successful woman. And screw a personal life.
I avoid even a single moment alone with Devon. Limiting myself to darting my head into his office or vice versa, I avoid even thinking about last weekend. I suppose that will have to be my MO for the rest of my goddamned life.
“Saturday at six o’clock we are meeting him and Travis in town at Sariano’s,” Gail happily informs me on Wednesday.
I squeal with delight and respond with all the right words of excitement. But inside, I’m not looking forward to it at all. But I will be. I will put up a front and be nice. I will not close my mind, but be open to it.
“How did you persuade Devon to come to Dayshia’s birthday party?” I all but smash my face onto my desk when I race to answer the company phone. It’s freaking Damion and that’s all he wants to know. How did I persuade Devon to come?
I groan but reply, “I asked and he refused. I demanded it. He refused even harder. I laid my best guilt trip on him and he got belligerent. So I finally threatened to fire him. Voilà! That did it. It wasn’t out of any desire to make amends with you, or should I say, to let you make amends with him, Damion. My advice is: don’t hold your breath. His heart still has some compassion inside it, and he doesn’t blame Dayshia. He actually wants a relationship with her.”
“Wow, you don’t sugarcoat anything.”
“No. I’m tired of the war between you two. I can’t fix it or improve it, so you know what? Fuck it. Other people have more serious issues and problems than you two do. It’s not just about you guys.”
He pauses. “Claudia… is everything all right?”
I close my eyes in pain and press my forehead into my palm. Resting my elbows on my desk, everything I’ve been holding inside me for the last week seems to rush out of my mouth like a waterfall. I spill everything to Damion. “No. Why did you fuck Ireena? Why did you do that to him? You ruined him for any future normal relationships. You hurt him so much, he refuses to get into another relationship again. She was dating him. How could you?”
It’s so mean. And way too long after the fact. I never chided him like this before.
“I don’t know how to answer that.”
“How can you not know how to answer that?”
“Because I have a daughter with the same woman you want me to explain my love affair with and besmirch. I’m married to her. It happened. It was all wrong when it happe
ned, but I can’t undo it now or deny it. I’m married, I have a beautiful child, and this is my family.”
I’m still not satisfied. “At the expense of losing the love of your twin brother?”
He sighs. “Yes. At the expense of losing my brother. I’m gaining a daughter. I’m sorry, Claudia, if you felt used by me. You’re still pretty close to Devon, and you could be the only one with any influence regarding all of this. I’m just trying to mend the few fences that I still can.”
I shake my head as I realize Damion doesn’t have a clue about what happened between Devon and me. As far as he knows, I convinced Devon to come with me on Saturday, making it a win to Damion and Chloe, I’m pretty sure. Seems like a century ago in my mind. If anything positive happened on Saturday for any of them, all I feel is sullied. My role in it ruined me. And what’s more? I’m realizing now that I can’t care anymore. I used to care about our friendship and the possibility that someday it could be more. My fondest wish was that someday Devon would care as much for me as I did for him. So I shouldered a lot of his pain as well as his family’s cognizance of his pain. I only wanted to make his life better.
Now I know how wrong that was. I can’t improve his life or make it any better than it is. I can continue as his friend and offer my support, but I am not his fixer. He’s got to fix things for himself. In the same way, Damion will have to confront him directly from now on. I have to admit my regrettable part in that I allowed myself to become their go-to girl, which led everyone to assume an overinflated sense of intimacy existed between Devon and me. Sure, it was an intimacy I’ve longed for more than anything else in my personal life. To my own detriment, I foolishly neglected most of my personal life. I don’t know if I could seriously care for anyone else besides Devon because I never gave myself the opportunity.
I’ve had horse blinders on but not about Devon, no. But regarding any others. Even during my crush when I longed for Devon, I believed I saw him as he truly is. I wanted to believe we had a deeper connection than it was despite knowing exactly what he is. I’ve never tried to move beyond my feelings for Devon so I don’t really know if I could have strong feelings for someone else.