by Lila Younger
I turn to my mom, shocked.
“You can’t be serious. I’m an adult. You can’t make me go home. I’ve got school.”
“Well, we’ll see about that,” my dad mutters. “You’re on summer break aren’t you? So you’ll have time to go to the lawyer with us tomorrow.”
My surprise turns to fear.
“Dad, you can’t do that to Lachlan! He could lose his company,” I say urgently. “I won’t do it. I won’t press charges.”
I shake my mom’s shoulder urgently from the back, but she’s not looking at me.
“Mom, please talk some sense into dad. Please. I made my own decisions. Lachlan didn’t force me into anything.”
My breath hitches, and I have to brush angry tears away. I know how much the company means to Lachlan, how much he’s put into it. I don’t want to be the reason he loses it all. I couldn’t bear it. I know that they don’t have a case if I refuse to say anything, but popular opinion’s already made up their mind about Lachlan, and that could damage him even more. Who would want to work with Buchanan Manufacturing when their CEO is seen as some kind of sleaze?
“Lachlan is it? So you and him have been sleeping together?” my dad says with disgust. “I can’t believe it. I honestly can’t believe it.”
A burst of rage explodes inside my chest.
“Why can’t you dad? Is it because you hate the man? Because I don’t. In fact, I love him. Maybe we shouldn’t have started this when he’s my boss, but it’s not like I was coerced into it. I made the choice to be with him too.”
“Oh honey,” my mom wails. “You can’t honestly mean that. He’s so much older than you! What could you possibly have in common?”
“I do mean it,” I say defiantly, because I do. “I love Lachlan Buchanan.”
Even after everything, I love Lachlan. I still love Lachlan. And I know that he loves me. He has to. He’s scrambling right now, trying to fix things, but I know deep in my heart that what we had wasn’t just some affair. Our connection went beyond the physical.
“She’s sick,” my mom says, blinking rapidly at my dad. “Or something. Maybe she has Stockholm syndrome. That’s the one where a person falls in love with their kidnapper, isn’t it? Should we get her a therapist?”
“NO. No, no no. Mom you can’t honestly believe what you’re saying. Nobody kidnapped me, okay? Nobody forced me to do anything. I know that you don’t want to hear this but I love him. I’m going to say it a million times if I have to, because I do. You’ll just have to accept it.”
The waterworks release again with my mom, and even though I feel awful, I know I have to stand strong. Because even though I owe my parents a lot, and even though it’s hurting them now, I’ve never been so sure of something in my life. I want to be with Lachlan almost as much as I want to become an interior designer. And even if he can’t see it yet, he will. And then everything will work out. I know it in my heart, in my bones. And I hold onto that fact all the way home.
Lachlan
Even though the last thing I want to do is to leave Jenna, I know that my presence would only make things worse at the airport. So when we land, I head straight towards one of the airport’s bars. I can’t bear to even look at her, because I know that if I do, if I see that sadness on her face, I’d toss out everything I said and kiss her. And I’ve already fucked up enough with Jenna. The last thing she needs is more publicity, more people hounding her, photographing her, poking into her private life. I know what that feels like, and it’s hell. There’s no way I could put her through it too. Better for those rabid reporters to think she means nothing to me, even if the thought kills me inside.
So I clench my fists tight and walk in the other direction as soon as we leave the bridge. It’s loud and noisy, just like how my brain feels right now. Every last bit of me is screaming to go after her, be selfish. The only thing that stops me is knowing that this is for her. That even if she doesn’t see it, I’m still doing this for her. I don’t turn around, because I can’t watch her leave me behind.
The airport is swarming with people heading in all directions, and I charge through all of them, heedless of whether I bump into someone or not. Nothing matters anymore except putting distance between Jenna and I. There’s a sports bar blasting the game, and I duck in and head straight for the bar. People are roaring over a touchdown, and I have to yell to get my order. As soon as the bartender hands me my beer, I take it over to one of the semi-private booths in the back and call up the company’s publicist, Dave. He does a good job, but I’m pretty sure he’s not used to a scandal like this.
“How’s it looking?” I ask him. I’d first relayed the situation in the hotel, and now I’m hoping he’s got the solution.
“Not good,” Dave says in a grim voice. “We weren’t able to get ahead of it and squelch the story, and now that it’s out on the internet, it’ll be impossible to suppress.”
His news immediately gives me a headache, and I try to massage my temples as he continues. He’s talking about giving an interview, going on TV, giving them a different narrative and a bunch of other bull that I don’t want to deal with.
“This couldn’t have come at a worse time,” I mutter.
The contract with Toys 2 Tots I’d gone above and beyond to secure is now gone. I’m sure of it. What kind of children’s toy company would want to align themselves with me right now?
“No kidding,” Dave huffs. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking,” I say.
“Not with your brain you weren’t,” he snorts angrily.
And it’s the truth. When it came to Jenna, I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to. I had to be with Jenna, I had to have her. A day without her was, still is, unthinkable. I don’t even know how I’d go on in the next few months, let alone the rest of my life. I’d have to find a way though. Clearly I’d created a huge fucking mess. And by not telling Dave, I’d probably made his job a hundred times worse. There’s no way he’d be able to keep a lid on this. Hell, if this goes national…
Dave grumbles a bit more, but then hangs up to do his job. I stare at my beer, my stomach turning so much that I can’t even force down a sip.
I close my eyes, but every time I do, I see Jenna’s face swim to the surface again. The hurt in her eyes when I told her we were over, the way she clung to the belief that we could still be. If only she knew that I was just as anguished as she was. Because Jenna and I might have started out as an affair, but it’s become more, too much more. I flip over my phone, hesitating over whether I should call Jenna or not and tell her that I was wrong, that I want to be with her, that together we could get through anything. But I know that that wouldn’t help anyone but myself, so I drop it back down onto the table.
After all, what I said was true. There’s no way we could have worked. I’m looking to settle down and have a family soon. She’s young enough that she should be going out every night and living it up. I’ve already broken her heart once, there’s no need to do it again a second time. Bile rises in my throat, but I strengthen my resolve. This is the only way.
My phone rings again and I pick it up. Dad. Nope, I wasn’t going to deal with that right now on top of everything. I let it go straight to voicemail, and the next five calls too. A few minutes later, a text message pops up on my phone.
What did you do Lachlan? Everyone at the club is staring, and they’ve asked me to step down from organizing the cotillion!
Good old mom. Trust her to worry more about her status among her friends rather than the state of her son. I delete that message, and then I turn the stupid phone off for good measure. I’m in no mood to hear how I’ve besmirched the Buchanan name, not right now. There’s nobody I want to hear from right now. The only one would be Jenna, and I have a feeling she’s not going to be calling me anytime soon. Suddenly the din of the terminal is too much to bear on top of everything else.
I stand up, leaving my beer behind. I would love to sit and drink the
rest of the day away, but I know it wouldn’t solve anything. I’d probably end up making the situation worse. I walk out into the main section of the airport, and by now the bags have mostly been claimed. There’s no sign of Jenna or her family. I walk out of the airport, and head to my car. It’s a long, lonely walk, and somehow it feels fitting.
********
Ollie and I are at a lounge downtown. He doesn’t ask any questions, just sits with me and drinks, which is what I need right now after the week I’ve had. He knows that I’ll talk when I’m ready. Until then, he’ll support me silently. I’m grateful for that. I haven’t talked to Jenna at all aside from a text asking her not to show up. When I arrived Monday morning, the office was swarming with reporters, flashes going off in my face as I hurried inside. The fact that the whole area is private property doesn’t faze these people. It wasn’t until I got security involved that they moved, camping on the street outside the parking lot.
I walked straight into my office, avoiding the stares and whispers of my employees. I knew that I should have said something, but there wasn’t anything I could say that didn’t sound like an excuse. For the first time in my life, I kept the door shut the entire day. I haven’t stepped inside after that yet. Instead I’ve arranged everything over the phone and from my work laptop. I’m acting like a fucking coward. Somehow I’ve lost my way, and I’m lost as to how to get back.
Things get worse as the week goes on. As I predicted, the scandal got picked up by the national news. The fact that my father’s running for re-election later this year makes the story even juicier for those vultures. They keep running a picture of Jenna, and she’s so beautiful that it leaves me breathless every time. Luckily, it seems like she’s managed to stay out of the spotlight. I guess they see her as the token young woman that I had an affair with, even though that’s the farthest thing from reality.
I should call her, I think as I down my drink. Except… what if she doesn’t want to answer?
The thought stops me cold each time I work up the nerve, and I end up putting my phone away again. But that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking of her. In fact, she consumes me. At any given point in time, I’m wondering what she’s doing, how she’s faring, if she thinks of me at all.
I miss her so fucking much I can’t sleep at night.
Suddenly I feel a clap on my shoulder. I look up and see the smarmy face of Anderson, my rival for the Toys 2 Tots contract. He’s got way too much cologne on, his hair combed back, and a shiny gold ring on every finger. The man looks as slimy as a snake oil salesman, and that’s putting it nicely. I stiffen and shrug him off, but he’s not fazed.
“Buchanan,” he booms. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Anderson,” I say curtly. His face is the last thing I want to see right now.
“Shame about the contract isn’t it? Bartender, how about a drink for my friend her to drown his sorrows,” he says, and there’s something in his glance that tells me that it’s him that got it.
Something clicks in my head.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” I ask, but I don’t wait for the answer. “You’re the slimy fuck who decided to throw this all over the news.”
“You mean that thing with your office intern? That was all you my friend. You can make something out of nothing.” He takes a sip of his own drink. “Although I can’t fault you for it really. She’s got a phenomenal rack on her, doesn’t she?”
I lunge at him, blood pounding in my ears. How dare this jackass talk about Jenna that way? Ollie pulls me back, and the bartender makes his way over menacingly. Anderson holds up two hands, as if I’m acting completely irrational.
“Better rein in your friend,” he says to Ollie. “Wouldn’t want another scandal getting out now would we? That might really make things bad.”
I roughly throw Ollie off of me, but I’m glad he was here. Anderson smirks and walks away.
“That asshole,” I spit out. “He’s the reason for all this.”
“Hey, he’s not worth it, man.”
I know he’s right, but I can’t sit at this damn bar now knowing I might see Anderson’s slimy mug again. Instead I throw down a twenty for the drinks and storm out. After insisting that I’d be fine to drive, Ollie heads out. My car is parked nearby, but the night is cold, and it’s what I need to calm down. I stuff my hand in my pockets and begin walking.
The whole time, all I can think of is Jenna. How much I wish she was there so I could talk to her. How much better I’d feel about everything if I just had her in my arms where she belongs. I think about her laugh, about the way she would always chew her lip when she’s lost in thought, the heavenly smell of her hair.
I think about how perfect we were together, and what an idiot I was to throw it all away, and for what? Sure there was Ollie, but he’s not the one I want, the one I need to have beside me in this time of crisis.
Suddenly, I turn around, so fast that I almost run into a guy behind me. And then I break out into a jog, making my way back towards my car. I know what I have to do. I just hope that Jenna will forgive me for taking this long to work it out.
Jenna
A week goes by without anything from Lachlan except for a text saying ‘It’s best if you stay home Jenna. There are reporters everywhere on site.’ and I go from hopeful to hopeless. I replay our conversation over and over, and I can’t help but feel like maybe I’ve been looking at it all wrong. Maybe Lachlan was trying to let me down easy when he said that we’ll talk later. Maybe he never meant to talk to me again at all.
Everyone else however, is more than keen to talk to me. All kinds of people, from high school classmates, to ex-work colleagues, to randoms have tried to message me on Facebook. It’s all the same thing too.
“Did you really sleep your way to the top?”
“Gold digger!”
“What kind of whore sleeps with their boss?”
I deactivated my profile after that one. And despite the fact that Lachlan told me to not come in, some die-hard reporters have found my home and have camped out on the street. Dad tried to chase them off, but then they bribed our neighbor to stay on their driveway. I could hear dad swearing all night about them. I guess they won’t be getting any of my mom’s holiday cookies this Christmas. I have to keep my window curtains shut at all times, but that suits me fine. I don’t need the sun. The darkness is much more comforting.
I spend most of my week at my parents. At first I wanted to go back to my apartment, but then I realized I’d be well and truly alone there. Since it’s summer break, it’s not like I’d need to be there for school. And even if I hate my parents for what they said, it beats being all by myself.
Not that I see them all that much. I spend most of my time in bed, sleeping and moping. I don’t even shower. The only times I get up is to go to the bathroom and sneak downstairs at night to get dinner. I avoid my parents at all costs.
After a few days, my mom comes to my room and knocks on my door. My first instinct is to tell her to go away, but it’s not like I’ve got anywhere to hide. So I let her in, fall into her arms, and cry. It’s an ugly cry, with heaving shoulders and runny noses and through the whole thing she just rubs my back and listens like she used to when I was little. I’ve always been my mom’s secret favorite. I know that parents say they love their kids equally, but I know for a fact that my dad and my sister have a special bond like how I have one with my mom.
I’m all prepared for her to say I told you so, but surprisingly she doesn’t.
“I’m sorry honey,” is all she says. “That man really did mean a lot to you, didn’t he?”
The fact that she’s so understanding has me in sobs all over again. Because he did. Maybe I’m just a naive girl, but I honest to God thought that what Lachlan and I had was more than just a fling. And I believed he thought so too. Now I know better.
“Am I just being stupid mom? Is it just because he was my first b-b-boyfriend?” it hurts to even say the words.
“No, n
ot at all sweetie,” my mom says. “Remember how I met your father?”
I nod, a total snotty mess. My mom and dad have the perfect story of how they met when they were in kindergarten and he declared that she was going to be his wife. It’s so sugary sweet and cute that it’s hard to believe that it’s true, but it is. They were high school sweethearts who got married at eighteen and never looked back.
“He was my one and only too, and I knew, the same way you knew, with my whole heart that he was the one.”
“Only mine isn’t,” I say gloomily. “Is it?”
“Have you tried talking to him?” she asks as she gives me another hug. “Because you should.”
“Maybe,” I tell her.
I’m happy that my mom finally is seeing things my way, but it’s too late. His silence is letting me know how things stand loud and clear.
“Now come on,” she says softly as she stands. “Why don’t you come downstairs? I made apple pie for you tonight, your favorite.”
“I’m not hungry mom,” I tell her. “Maybe later.”
She shakes her head.
“You know, even your dad’s not angry with you anymore. He just doesn’t know how to say it and fix things.”
Now that’s surprises me. Dad’s never been one to change his mind once he’s made it up.
“You have to understand Jenna,” she says. “Your dad is very protective of his girls. You should have seen the way he grilled your sister’s boyfriend. He practically peed his pants when dad was finished with him. In fact, I think that’s why the boy never asked Janine out again. He was too scared of your dad. So to see you on the news, to see the way people were talking about it, the fact that you were sneaking around behind his back, it made your dad snap a little. ”
“I guess the fact that he doesn’t like his boss doesn’t help either huh?”
“No, it doesn’t. But your dad is sorry. Won’t you come down and have dinner?”
I thought about it. Am I still angry? Not really. It’s all died down into regrets and sadness more than anything. Being angry takes energy, and that I don’t have.