Because You're the Love of My Life

by Sarah Kleck

  Happiness. Unhappiness. What do these words really mean? Did people who were simply happy really exist? Like, really? Their whole lives? Or, well, most of the time. Maybe once there was something like that. People who walked all day through the world with a blissful Dalai Lama grin on their faces. But when I walked down the street, I saw a different picture. Grim, sad, dissatisfied faces wherever I looked. I’d only very rarely meet people who seemed to be generally happy in life.

  The more I thought about it, the more it became clear to me: happiness isn’t a state. At least, not a lasting one. No, happiness is more like a snapshot. There are occasional rays of light that make life worth living. That let people glance over things that just didn’t go so well. To comfort them about what they regret, what dissatisfies them, and what makes them unhappy. Only snapshots—seconds and minutes of bliss amid our pitiful existence. An intoxication to which we devote ourselves and which, as soon as the effect wears off, torments us with hellish symptoms of withdrawal.

  But was it really that crushing? Were we all just swinging from one happy moment to another in the jungle of our dreary existence?

  Yes, probably. We always live for our next happy moment, bridging the wide gap with memories of the last one. That way everything remains bearable.

  But what if the moments of bliss were no longer sufficient to make up for the rest? What if the bad parts took over? Is happiness only an illusion then?

  It’s hard to admit that after more than seven years with him, and nearly two and a half of those years with a ring on my finger, our relationship just wasn’t working anymore. I had repressed it a long time. My subconscious did everything possible to keep this doomed love alive. I was the one who activated the protective mechanism that simply locked everything negative, painful, loveless, and hopeless between Holden and me into a small black box and buried it deep inside. Whenever there was commotion in that box that threatened to burst the lock and pour out, my protective mechanism activated.

  This is only a phase, it called to me from deep inside.

  It’s only the stress of work.

  Soon it will be again like it used to be.

  And, so all the repressed pain, doubt, and helplessness slumbered in my subconscious. Entirely wrapped away in that little black box.

  But now the box’s walls collapsed, bursting it open, releasing a single thought that bundled and united all my feelings into a single awareness. A thought that matured into insight. An insight so clearly defined that there was no turning back now that it had risen to the surface.

  Annie, you can no longer find happiness with this man.

  “I’m taking the Seattle job.” I said to Holden the next morning, when he was halfway out the door.

  The night before, I’d emailed Parker and told him my decision. It was barely a minute before he called me and we worked out the initial details.

  “It starts next week,” I said.

  Holden turned, looking back at me in shock and anger. Then he clenched his teeth.

  “Suit yourself,” he said in a flat tone before slamming the door behind him.

  I would have preferred to say it more gently, but since he wouldn’t talk to me, this seemed like the only thing I could do. I had to leave. I couldn’t go on like this. If there was any chance left for Holden and me to work things out, this was it. Time out. Distance. So we could clarify how to go on.

  When I arrived at work, there was a message that Parker was waiting to see me in his office. I went straight there, and he shook my hand for what seemed like an eternity, thanking me for accepting the challenge. Even though it was last minute, I’d saved him from going to Seattle, so he added another couple of percent to the raise.

  Parker called his secretary into his office. “Betty, would you please book a flight to Seattle for Annie.” He turned back to me. “Does Sunday work for you, or would you prefer to wait to Monday? However, the first employees will turn up then, and they should—”

  “Sunday’s fine,” I cut him short.

  “Wonderful.” He clapped his hands. “A business class flight to Seattle on Sunday.”

  Betty nodded and returned to her desk.

  “We’ve already rented a company apartment. Right by the waterfront. You’ll like it.”

  I couldn’t have cared less where I’d live, but it was good to know I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.

  Parker went to his desk to rifle through his chaotic paperwork.

  “Where is it?” he said, moistening his index finger and leafing farther down. “Here it is. The list of the new employees,” he announced, pressing a folder into my hand.

  “I’ve included their résumés, so you can start familiarizing yourself with your new team.”

  “OK.” It was all I could say.

  Parker beamed at me, again shook my hand. “Thank you again, Annie. We are very pleased with your decision and really appreciate it.” Parker always used the royal we even though he only meant himself. Perhaps he was including the gratitude of the executives, too. But in this case, it was Parker himself who owed me gratitude. If I hadn’t agreed at the very last minute, the Seattle gig would have fallen to him.

  I wrapped up work early and went home at noon to start packing my things. It was Thursday, and since I would fly out on Sunday, I didn’t have much time to prepare. Holden came home late, slept on the couch, and was already gone again by the time I got up in the morning. On Friday I waited up late to talk to him. But when he finally got home, he was so drunk I went to bed without a word and left him snoring on the couch. Saturday, he went to the gym, and when he got home, he showed no sign of wanting to talk. Holden knew I was going to Seattle, and he knew it’d be soon. If he refused to talk about it, I had no choice but to accept that.

  The taxi came at seven Sunday morning. I stood in front of the couch, where Holden had again spent the night. I could tell he was awake even though his eyes were closed. He didn’t move even when I said his name for the third time.

  “I’m doing this for us,” I said quietly, knowing that he heard me. “I’m going so we can get some perspective.”

  No reaction.

  “Holden,” I said again.

  He stubbornly pretended to be asleep.

  I exhaled with a sigh, bent over, and kissed him.

  Then I left.

  Chapter 21

  We become who we are through the choices we make. But, I couldn’t have guessed where this decision would lead me.

  “Good morning. I’m Annie Crane. I don’t know if you were notified yet of my arrival. It was decided on rather short notice that I’d run this lab during the setup and training phase.”

  Sixteen new employees had gathered before me. A good mix of recent college grads and experienced forty-somethings. I could work with that.

  “I dropped by last night for a first look at the facilities. I’d be grateful if Ms. . . .”—I briefly looked at my records—“Ms. Hendricks?” I raised my eyes to look at the assembled group.

  “Yes. That’s me.” A strikingly beautiful African-American woman motioned with her hand.

  I gave her a friendly nod and continued. “If I’ve been correctly informed, you’re my new assistant, Ms. Hendricks. I’d be grateful if you’d show me around later.”

  She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Ms. Crane. It’ll be my pleasure.”

  “Good.” I looked at the group again. “I’d like to schedule a personal chat with each of you over the next few days. To get to know you and so I can get an idea of your needs, ideas, and professional objectives. Ms. Hendricks will be in touch.”

  She nodded again and made a note in her pad.

  “Are there any questions just now? No? Good. Here’s to great start, and I look forward to working with all of you. By the way, should you have any concerns, no matter what kind, please let me know.”

  The atmosphere in the lab was good, and urgency was in the air. I’d already discovered through the first conversations that everyone was eager to
get the place up and running. My office, which I had to myself, was very modern, minimalist in style and perfectly suited my taste. The only personal objects I had on my desk were two framed pictures, one of Grace and the other of Holden. I stared at his picture for a while before I decided to call him. I reached him at his office.

  “Clark Construction and Engineering. Crane speaking.”

  “Hi, it’s me.”

  I heard him breathe. “Hi. I expected as much. Seattle area code.”

  “I . . . just wanted to say I arrived and everything is going OK. And to ask how you’re doing.”

  “I’m well,” he answered flatly. “Lots of work.” He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “How are you?” It didn’t sound flat this time.

  I felt myself tearing up. “I’m good, too.” I barely managed to hold back the tears but the trembling in my voice would give me away. I took a deep breath before continuing. “I have an office of my own again.”

  “I figured you would,” he answered with a laugh.

  “My team makes a fabulous impression. They’re all very motivated.”

  “I’m glad for you.”

  I could hear a knock at his door in the background. “Holdie, have you got a moment?” a woman’s voice asked. I didn’t have to ask to know who it was. I would have recognized Monica among a thousand.

  “One second,” he said to her.

  “Lots of work, I see.” Now I sounded flat. “I’ll call again. Bye.”

  Holden audibly swallowed. “OK,” he finally said. “Bye.”

  I waited for him to call next. He took three days, which became our rhythm. Every three days, we’d have a short call during working hours. A bit of small talk about work, our friends, and whatever other news there was, but one of us would freeze as soon as the elephant in the room—our relationship—came up. Fortunately, I didn’t have much time to think about it. I usually arrived at the office around seven, worked all day—sometimes I had so many appointments that there was only time for a very quick lunch. Typically, I was the one to turn the lights off; then I’d go home, eat something, exercise for half an hour, shower, watch a bit of TV, and drop dead-tired into bed. The next day replayed the previous one—every day except Saturday and Sunday, when I’d see Dad, sometimes even with Mom or Aunt Jane. Other times I’d meet up with Corinne, who had started her own little PR agency in Portland, from which she conducted successful advertising and marketing for her artist ex-lover and his friends. Although they broke up a year ago, they were still friends and working together.

  And with this routine, before I knew it, it was March, and I’d been in Seattle for ten weeks. Parker had spoken of three, at most four months, but it became clear to me that even four months wouldn’t be long enough. If I was going to leave the lab to my successor in a way I’d like to find it, I’d probably have to stay in Seattle until early summer. The division manager position would still be mine when I got back to Boston. I had the company lawyer write up an airtight agreement, which only cost me a lunch and two margaritas. My greatest hope, that this time-out would be good for Holden and me, wasn’t coming true. Rather, the physical distance between us mirrored the emotional distance. We both became painfully aware of how much we’d drifted apart. Still, neither of us wanted to finally call it quits.

  “Yes, at nine.” I switched my phone to my other hand, so I could open the heavy door to my apartment building without dropping my briefcase. Where was that damned concierge this time? Surely, he wasn’t paid to chain-smoke.

  “Oh, please have coffee and cookies ready in the conference room,” I instructed my assistant. “Mr. Parker gets low blood sugar, and when that happens he becomes unbearable.” Not that I had to worry about keeping my boss in a good mood—after all, I fully intended to give him a piece of my mind today. But it would make things easier if his blood sugar was stable. He knew that I was right—it wasn’t for nothing that he got on a plane for a six-hour flight here without a single objection. How did he expect I could run the lab effectively without the two additional chemists we so urgently needed? He would have to explain that.

  I could imagine Jody Hendricks’s youthful smile over the phone. “Of course, Annie. I will. Anything else?”

  “No, that’ll be it for now. I’ll be at the office in twenty minutes. Thanks, Jody, see you soon.”

  But first I needed coffee. Real coffee, not the office swill. I headed straight for a coffee shop on 8th Avenue, where I got my caffeine fix every morning. Usually, though, I was there much earlier. I’d slept a little later this morning because I’d stayed at the office until almost in the morning to get the files ready for Parker’s visit. Now, just after eight, the line was longer. At six thirty I almost never waited for more than five minutes. I got in line, grumbling to myself I’d better not be late because of this. I checked email on my phone while I waited: Parker wrote he’d landed on time. Jody sent a reminder for my telephone appointment with the patent office, and Jessica, who was one of my chemists, requested a meeting. I was sure I knew what that was about. The lab was entirely overworked without the two additional chemists. Maybe I should call Jessica in later so Parker would hear from the horse’s mouth how things stood. Feeling a little annoyed, I clicked my phone into sleep mode, put it away, and let my eyes drift in space. Oh, man, there still were six people ahead of me. I considered skipping the coffee when the guy in a suit three people ahead of me caught my eye. Strange, I knew that hair from somewhere. I strained my memory trying to remember where I’d seen him before. When he turned sideways my heart skipped a beat, then dropped to my stomach. I stared at him in disbelief. I was so shocked I froze. My legs moved forward as if by remote control, then my hand lifted by itself to tap his shoulder.

  “Seth?”

  Sometimes, when you see someone you were close to after years have passed, it feels like you were never separated. Seeing Seth again that morning after more than ten years, that’s exactly how it felt. It was as if the two of us had aged overnight but were still the same people who’d been eternally in love in high school. Ten years had left its evidence on his face and, undoubtedly, on mine. Seth had turned from the boy I once loved into a man who’d experienced so much it was enough for two lifetimes. He’d traveled Europe, suffered the loss of his sister, fallen in and out of love. He’d grown up, and maybe the Seth standing before me was very different from the one I’d known. But his eyes, his thoughtful gray-green eyes, were still the same.

  “Annie!” Seth’s eyes widened, his mouth opened. “What . . . are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same.” My voice sounded as exuberant as I felt. My heart jumped into my throat. Could he see my heart pounding?

  “I live here,” he answered, his eyes still wide with disbelief.

  “Would you please celebrate your reunion somewhere else,” the gum-chewing cashier said to us as she pointed to the growing line behind us.

  Without leaving our eyes off each other, we stepped out of the line and went outside.

  “Me, too,” I said as he held the door open. “Work. For another few months, at least.”

  He spread his arms and shook his head. “Wow . . . this is . . . isn’t this awesome?”

  “Absolutely,” I agreed.

  “I don’t know what to say.” He shook his head as if he developed a nervous tick, took a step back, and looked me over from top to bottom. “You look fabulous, Annie.”

  “Thank you,” I answered slightly embarrassed. We were talking far too loud in our excitement, netting some strange looks from passersby.

  “Really. That haircut totally suits you,” he said. My hand automatically went to my shoulder-length hair.

  “You, too. You look all grown-up in that suit. I don’t know you like that.”

  “Want to walk a little ways?” Seth suggested. So far, we’d hardly moved from the spot and were blocking the coffee shop entrance.

  I nodded, and we sauntered off toward Lake Union Park.

  “So, tell,” I pushed
, pumped full of adrenaline. “What are you doing here?”

  “Work,” he answered with a bowl-me-over smile. The dimples I’d always loved so much were in full play. “I’m the new consultant at Nobels & Weyne.”

  “You’re a corporate consultant?” I asked somewhat puzzled.

  “Surprised?” he grinned.

  “A little,” I admitted. “Not sure what I expected. But after all you’ve been up to in the last few years, well, I would have thought you’d be doing something more exciting, to be honest.”

  Seth laughed. “Something more exciting?”

  “Well, yes. I did.”

  “Still milk and sugar?” Seth suddenly asked. He’d stopped in front of a street vendor.

  “Only milk.”

  “Two coffees, please,” he ordered. “One with milk, the other black.”

  The vendor handed him two paper cups, Seth paid and handed me mine.

  “Corporate consulting is exciting enough if you ask me,” he picked up the topic again. “And it was getting time for me to settle down.”

  “So, of all places, you picked Seattle for that? I mean, there must have been far more beautiful places to pitch your tent.”

  Seth stopped and looked me in the eyes. His look appeared tired. “It was time to come home,” he said gently, but his words struck my heart.

  I briefly wrestled for words but then said it as I meant it. “I’m so sorry, Seth.” I felt a lump in my throat. “About Lynn.”

  He nodded and lowered his eyes. “It happened a while back.”

  When I put a comforting hand on his arm, he twitched as if he’d received an electric shock. He looked at me almost frightened. His cheeks turned red. I quickly withdrew my hand. I swallowed. There still was something between us. I’d also felt it.

  “You’ll still be here for a few months?” he suddenly asked. Apparently to change the topic.

  “Yes. I’m working for a biotech company in Boston. We’re setting up a second lab here in Seattle, and I have the honor of training the new employees and heading the team until we’ve found a suitable lab director.”