by Leanne Davis
In many ways, I feel grateful this happened. Don’t get me wrong. It hurts. Like salt in a wound. My heart is constantly contorting with pain, and I desperately wish I could find a brief respite from what I have to endure. The knowledge that Devon and I will never be more than friends, co-workers, or pseudo-family members seems so cruel to me. But those are the limits.
With renewed courage, I finally answer Damion. “It was only a first step. Now, the rest is between you two. As it always should have been. If you and Ireena hadn’t overstepped the boundaries, you wouldn’t be where you are now. Now it’s happening between me and you two. It’s affecting my relationship with Devon, you and your family. I no longer want to participate.”
Silence follows my declaration. Damion finally sighs. “You’re right. I never considered it from your point of view. All right. I’ll call Devon. I’ll ask to see him. And I’ll keep trying until I make a crack in his wall of isolation.”
I need to try that sometime. The reality hits me hard. I finish my call with Damion. Then I realize I’ve never taken the honest route with Devon. I played a childish game of waiting and hoping and moping. I got what I wanted, then I didn’t, so I acted all weird while turning on the impenetrable silent treatment. If that continues, I have no doubt our friendship will be over. I must face the awkward moment with pure honesty now. Maybe that will create a new starting point for both of us. If not, I guess we will just have to be weird around each other from here on out. Our friendship will wither to nothing in time. Time is all that truly exists. I see the reality but now I need to face it and accept it.
We are now as we always were, just friends.
Sucking in a deep breath, I push my chair back from my desk. I hook a hank of hair behind my ear and smooth down my shirt. Honesty. Shit. Grow up. I can do that. I can be the adult in the room, unlike Devon, Damion, or Ireena.
I knock on his half open door. He’s typing on his computer. He sits upright at my unannounced presence. Turning in his chair, he rests his elbows on the desk as he asks, “What’s up?”
“Damion just called me.”
He sighs and resets his face in a fierce grimace. “What now?”
“Nothing. I told him I refuse to be a go-between in any matters involving you three. You’ll have to figure out your own solutions and future policies with each other.”
His eyebrows jump with alarm as he leans back. “Oh.”
“Yeah. And now I realize I have to do the same thing for myself.” My stomach is churning. It’s never easy to be brutally honest and forthright, but it’s especially difficult when the person you’re addressing doesn’t feel the same way towards you. I slip into the chair before his desk and cross my legs. Clasping one hand between my knees, I squeeze it as if I’m offering myself moral support. “I just realized that I never told you the truth. I never tried to define our relationship. But after this weekend, things have become more unclear and awkward than ever before.”
He nods, letting his gaze drift off as he gets more comfortable in his seat. “I never meant to diminish our friendship. You’re nothing like the woman you saw on Saturday morning. Not to me.”
My heart sinks. I start to hurt. So much. But I suffer through it and strain to hear the echo of the pain that lies so deep inside my brain. I must never forget it. I must permanently engrave it so I’ll always remember it. This is reality and the moment when I acknowledge that Devon is my friend. Only a friend. Not his little sister, as he once saw me, and not what I grew up to be: his co-worker. I can’t deny how well our brains came up with solutions to any issues that needed to be handled. I also can’t deny the energy that often envelops us, almost giving both of us a buzz. Our endorphins flow so easily whenever we collaborate in our research and development. This amazing link connects us and keeps us on point. But apparently, that’s where it ends. At least for Devon it ends there, and now I have to accept it or stagnate in a filthy mud puddle and never move forward.
It’s almost like I must forgive him for not loving me before I can release my love for him. My futile longing and false hope threaten to gobble up my youth and ruin me for any potential future relationships.
Okay. Time to grow up and face it. I clear my throat. “I know I’m not what you want. I do. But also… this isn’t how I wanted anything to be.” A weird but harsh remark ripples down my spine. Damn. I didn’t expect it to hurt so much. “I’ve always wanted something more with you, Devon. By more, I mean something romantic.” No way could I say it and make it come out right, is there? I roll my eyes at myself, take a deep breath and continue. “I wanted a relationship so badly with you. On Sunday morning, I assumed you finally saw me as I saw you. Beyond a family friend, or co-worker and just a pal. I realize now I’ve been projecting my desires on you. I have been trying to make you want what I want.”
He taps his fingers on the desk, and his nerves clearly prod him to perform this mindless twitch. He doesn’t know how to reply to that. Neither would I, so I keep chanting in my mind, grow up and do this.
“Claudia… I’m really sorry. I didn’t know that. I might have suspected it when you were much younger, and you said you had a crush on me, but I always thought—”
“I outgrew it long ago? Yes, one would think so. But I didn’t. I’ve been waiting around for you to notice me and start… what? Thinking of me in ways you never did before? Thinking about dating me for once?”
He winces, shaking his head, and I cast a glance his way. His dark eyes are full of regret and he winces as he says, “And then last Saturday…”
“Saturday, you followed the same program as you have every weekend for the last year-and-a-half. I put myself right there, Devon. I felt hurt and mad and then I felt awkward and weird. I was trying to pretend that nothing happened so nothing could hurt me. The thing is: it did happen. I don’t see how we can move forward, or more importantly to me, how I can move forward if I don’t deal with this right now. I’m not telling you all of this to make you feel bad or to prod you into doing something about it. No, this is ground zero for me. I’m working out my feelings and moving on.
“Claudia… I’m really sorry…”
“I appreciate that. So am I. But it’s not your fault or mine. I wanted more from you than you were prepared to give me. It wasn’t a conscious thing. I know that, too. I see myself acting and feeling things I wish I didn’t. But I refuse to be your confidante anymore. I don’t want to hear about your dates or Ireena or Damion anymore. I believe we can continue to work together and rebuild that relationship. So now that I’ve humiliated myself in your presence for the last time, I must leave you. I’m actually accepting a blind date this weekend. With all my heart and soul, I’m planning, I swear to you, to move on. I am ready to move past you.”
He stares at me. I glance once at him and then away. I’m trying to proceed down my path and grow up, but that only gives me a small amount of confidence. I’m running out of steam now. I rub my clammy hands together.
He can only reiterate, “Claudia… I never wanted to hurt you.”
God, why don’t you just shut up? I want to scream at him. It doesn’t help anything but only makes me feel worse. So I don’t say that. “I know that and now you know how I see it. It might explain some of my actions and probably gives you a glimpse of how I’ll behave in the future. I want to put all of this to rest and move on… all of it. What happened between you and Damion and between you and me. You gain nothing by clinging to your hurt over Damion and Ireena. I’m trying to apply that crucial lesson to my own life.”
He stares at me, and a stricken expression appears on his face. “But I didn’t mean to hurt you. They did it deliberately to me.”
“No. They didn’t mean to hurt you either. They did, but I’ll never believe Damion went after Ireena in a predatory, scheming way. I think it just happened unexpectedly. Kind of like the way you and I just happened to hookup this weekend. It devastated me and seemed to make you uncomfortable. But neither party was guilty of premeditated
intent, right?”
He nods. “It still feels different.”
“It could be. I might be stretching the truth, but I can see your unhappiness. I guess I’m finally looking out for myself. I don’t want to be stuck in either place, not between you and Damion or between you and me for another decade. And with that, you’ll understand why I’m leaving now. I want to lick my wounds. This had been hard and humiliating.”
He jumps to his feet and skirts the desk. I wish he did not do that. I can’t look at him when he stands so close. He puts a hand out to grab my arm and then drops it. Perhaps he realizes that friendly gestures aren’t appropriate for us. If only because I see them as far more than friendly gestures. They are the little nuggets I collect to put in my basket of hope as I try to convince myself that Devon will someday love me. But really, they are just insignificant gestures of courtesy. I know he cares about me. But he doesn’t love me now and he also doesn’t want to fall in love with the likes of me.
He drops his hand and tucks them into his slacks pockets.
The truth hurts.
“Where does that leave us?”
“It leaves us on the path to someday being able to laugh over this as friends. Someday.”
“I’ll never laugh about this, Claudia. You caring about me? It’s the best compliment of my life.”
I shudder. Oh, God, the thank you for caring about me line. I know it’s not a practiced line for him, not towards me, at least. I want to correct him and say it’s not just “caring” but love. But I bite my tongue. Enough honesty. I’m done now. I can’t go any further.
“Devon, don’t say shit like that to me.”
He glances at me, looking startled until I shrug my shoulders and give him a small smile. His face suddenly releases into a contrite, but sincere grin. He nods. “Yeah, it sounds like something I’d say to anyone, huh? You’re not just anyone, Claudia. You mean everything to me. You’re my best friend for one. I’m sorry I didn’t sense it before. When Saturday happened, I failed to realize what I did to you.”
I nod. “Well, at least you know the truth now. Yeah, it sucks. But maybe now it can get a little better.”
I turn around and start to retreat. I’m all set to go home. I make sure all my work was done and put all the papers away. My purse and coat are waiting on the counter by the doorway. I can all but sprint out of here. I almost stop and lean against the hallway to let my fluttering heart settle down. I’m ready for the tears to fall. But I also don’t dare let them. I want to just move forward until this finally sinks in.
I should find someone else to be my best friend.
I should stop putting my wishes behind Devon’s actions. I was the one who pretended his kind gestures, words, and compliments were proof of the mythical awakening I wanted him to experience. But he was just being friendly, and never even thinking about the things he said or did with me. As most friends wouldn’t.
That’s the beauty of true friendship. You can relax and be casual and easy. You can be yourself without worrying over what you say or do. The connection, teasing, caring, and affection of friendship outweigh all the drama and jealousy aroused by sexual attraction. And he was already doing that.
I leave work, feeling sure I’m ready to give my blind date a chance.
Chapter 7
DEVON
I watch Claudia retreating from me. She doesn’t run, but exits briskly out the office door. She’s gone so I walk back to my window and stare out at the river. The afternoon wind has it all whipped up with bouncing whitecaps. A few boats punctuate the view. I sigh. This last weekend was so full of mistakes. I never even realized the worst one or knew how bad it actually was. It didn’t matter to the strange woman whose name I forgot. Or to my brother. I struggle to understand him and forgive him. I don’t even know if I like him anymore. Claudia is a kind, wonderful woman who’s in love with me. And I failed to realize it. I want to bash my forehead against the window for missing the things I couldn’t understand and for encouraging her without meaning to. I was always affectionate, teasing, warm, and complimentary to her. I never censored what I said or did with her.
If I thought about her for more than a second during the last eighteen months, maybe I would have realized it on my own. She was always there for me. Every single day. We talked and connected at work all the time. We even went out together afterwards. I usually saw her at some point over the weekends. The familiarity I shared with Claudia was very similar to that with Damion before the betrayal. Since Damion, however, it’s been all about Claudia. I have other friends and family, but she’s the primary person I see and can relate to. She’s the person I choose to talk to when I need to be understood. She entertains me. I simply expect to see and talk to her whenever anything is on my mind.
Do I take her presence for granted? Maybe. But only as much as I believed she allowed me to. I thought she accepted our connection and was content with that level of comfort. I really never imagined that her impression of it included love.
Now what happens? I don’t know. I know why she did this today. Both of us felt awkward. No one could deny that sex changed and crippled us this week. We can’t even look at each other for more than a moment before the other looks away. We fidget as we avoid each other and talk much too long about nothing or insignificant work issues.
Once again, she’s the mature, brave one. I hide to ignore her, or pivot when I see her and use other people to allay my discomfort. I did it with Damion. And with Ireena. And now, with Claudia. My shoulders slump forward. She is right to hold my feet to the fire. She has to spell it out. Or we could end up hating each other.
I wonder if we have any future as friends now?
I hope so. A sadness overwhelms me whenever I think about not having Claudia in my life. A tidal wave that nearly drowns me. Since Ireena and Damion betrayed me, I’ve been using Claudia to soothe my battered ego. That and too much alcohol, sex, women, money, and selfish indulgence. How long will I need those things to ignore the real feelings still brewing inside me?
I turn from the window and a deep, all-consuming sensation grips me. What is that? Fear? Fear of what?
A whisper answers me, and I have no idea what it says. I just lost the one person who might have tapped into my feelings and healed them. She might even feel them herself. The last thing I want is for her to experience how my brother’s betrayal and my subsequent abandonment of him makes me feel. It’s so much easier to isolate myself and ignore them. I continue to try to move on and avoid indulging any of the feelings attached to the tragic event. I never wanted that and I certainly don’t want to base my life on it now.
Now I need to grieve for my best friend, someone I hurt as badly as Ireena hurt me. The only difference is: I never meant to hurt Claudia. I was careless and clueless, far too concerned with my own pain. Ireena’s actions with me were deliberate and pretty ruthless, but in the end, despite my intentions I had still hurt Claudia.
Deep in my gut, I don’t want to admit it. If I give it any oxygen, I’ll have to deal with it.
Lately, my way of dealing with things I don’t want to face, is by hiding in my room with a bottle of alcohol or an unknown woman. I don’t want to do that this time. It seems the most disrespectful way I could considering that I’m the one who is in the position of hurting another this time.
Am I any better than Ireena and Damion? That’s a rather humbling thought that startles me.
CLAUDIA
My blind date is a total and utter bomb. Zero chemistry exists between us. Silence reigns whenever I speak. Gary, my blind date, takes my words way too seriously. My sarcasm is miles over his head. I have to resist the eyerolls and banish several fleeting thoughts that fill me with regret. Most notably, Devon would have understood that.
I try several more blind dates set up by two acquaintances. I also join two online dating sites. After seeing the five results, I decide to strictly focus on my career… forever. It’s pretty awful out there on the playing field and not
worth my time or my sanity to pursue.
Two months later, when I’m wrestling with the dumpster behind the warehouse at work, I meet someone new who isn’t boring, strange, scary or suspiciously reminiscent of a stalker. After cleaning out my closets, I carry a boxful of unwanted belongings to dump there. I lift the lid up but it crashes back down on me twice and I’m too short to hold it up while I throw in the trash. I have to push it up and swiftly throw my things into it as fast as I can. Twice more, the loud crashes of the lid falling startle me, and I’m sure anyone else who might be around me. Finally, a hand appears from nowhere that grips the lid of the dumpster and carefully holds it up. I’m about to fling all my weight to push it up again when I stop dead and almost fall over.
Standing before me is a tall, white guy with bright red hair and a beard. He’s skinny and freckled with a great smile. Probably about thirty or so, I guess.
“Thank you.” I empty my box while he grins and stares at all the mismatched, miscellaneous pieces of my life. Then he gently closes the lid for me.
“I obviously disturbed you,” I say while blushing and grinning back.
“I could see your gymnastics routine just trying to keep the lid up, so I thought I’d lend a hand.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s so difficult being short.”
He lifts his head back and laughs. He gets that I’m kidding. Gary, on the other hand, would have taken me at my word. “Yeah? Well it’s not so easy being the tallest or the skinniest. Not exactly the sexiest combination either.”
It’s hard for me to resist so I give him the once-over, scanning his body up and down before I make any determination. I instantly feel a warm chemistry and am grateful for meeting someone I can stand to be around for more than a few minutes. Which I can’t say about even one of the countless dates I’ve been out on lately.